


Akałii

by Bilbows



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fareeha Amari - Freeform, First Nations, Haida Pharah, Indigenous McCree, Indigenous pharah, Latino McCree, Mexican McCree, Native American Character(s), Native American McCree, Navajo McCree, Overwatch - Freeform, Pharah, Young Fareeha "Pharah" Amari, Young Jesse McCree, Young pharah, and there's nothing you can do about it, half mexican mccree, half native pharah, in case you missed it the main characters are Indigenous, jesse mccree - Freeform, native american fareeha, native american jesse mccree, native american pharah, ndn, young fareeha amari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2018-10-22 21:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10705869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bilbows/pseuds/Bilbows
Summary: Overwatch's new member is given one of his first jobs after being recently recruited by Reyes, but it's not what he expected. He'll learn more about what it is to be Indigenous, and gain the friendship of a one Fareeha Amari that changes his life.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this is my first fic in a long time! I haven't written any serious fanfic like this for a long while, and I'm an artist before I'm an author, so if I write strangely or have any issues with grammar etc, I'm open to critiques! Also note that while I AM a First Nations person, I'm not the tribes that I will be writing about. I'm trying to do as much research as I can where I can, but If I write something inaccurate or offensive, please tell me and I'll apologize and correct it! Any changes to chapters will be explained in the comments section so there's no confusion. Any and all warnings for mature/explicit (nothing sexual, don't worry) will be shown at the beginning of each chapter. Anyways thanks for taking the time to read! Onward with the official first chapter!

“A escort job?” said the youth, and his face twisted into an expression that confirmed he was as confused as he sounded, “and to _where?_ ”

Gabriel sighed but nevertheless remained patient. Jesse could always count on him for that. “Skidegate. British Columbia.”

“Canada?” said Jesse. He gave another look, “You want me to drive her to _Canada_? It’s kinda far, don’t you think?”

“It is, but you won't be driving her yourself. I want you to drive her to our airport, get on the plane with her, and stay with her in Skidegate for a couple of days. That’s the first half of the job, anyway. I'll brief you on the second half when you get there.”

“But why _me_? I'm not even sure Ana likes me, why doesn’t her dad come and get her here?”

Gabriel looked slightly hurt, causing the younger one to regret he had said it. His mentor’s expression changed to sympathetic for a moment, however, as if to reassure Jesse that Ana didn’t altogether dislike him, though they had only known each other for a short while.

“Ana would rather do this herself too, trust me. But like I said, I’ll have another job for you afterward. It’s just for a while.”

“I can’t believe this.”

The man stepped forward and gave a stern look to Jesse, gaining an eye roll from him. The teen almost walked off, almost as if to say that he wasn’t doing what he was asked and wished that the conversation was over. Gabriel called out to him before could leave, and placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him there, at least for a moment, “Would you at least think about it for a second?” said his mentor, and his tone was again calm and patient.

Jesse exhaled, his breath leaving his nose in a harsh huff. He closed his eyes and thought about everything for a moment, a crinkle appearing between his brows, evident of his thinking. Gabe said nothing, but stood there for heaven knows how long while he thought, and his hand gave a reassuring squeeze while it remained on Jesse’s shoulder. Ultimately, Jesse knew Gabe wouldn’t force him to do anything, he just wouldn’t. But given the circumstances now that he thought about it, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Ever since he’d joined this group, Gabriel hadn’t asked much of him. He gave him plenty of space, helped him train, gave him a bed and clothes, let him live, the whole nine yards. And now he was giving him a job. A mission of sorts. Of course, Jesse hadn’t been on any real missions yet… Gabriel insisted he train properly and get to know the job from the inside out before diving into dangerous territory, as he’d put it, but he also promised that they’d do a campaign together soon enough when the time came. It hadn’t. But it had all been so boring- the hand-to-hand combat lessons, the shooting range, the safety guide handbooks, all of it.  That made him all the more anxious to do some sort of job that proved his initiative, or at least give him something to do; not that Gabe doubted him, however. He guessed he was recruited for a reason, so why not try to do something?

 

And now that he thought of it, doing this _would_ get him out of training classes, and the homeschooling. At least for a while. An escort mission sounded a hell of a lot more fun than another chapter of those torturous handbooks.

 

Jesse’s eyes opened, his nose crinkling as he sighed one last time, “I’ll do it.”


	2. Plane Ride

He _was_ sleeping. Quite peacefully too, until a certain preteen had woke him up with a jabbing attack of her finger to his cheek. He woke with a guttural snort and felt an irritating heat in his left cheek. Jesse hit his knee on the pull-out table with a loud bang, his arms instinctively flinging to clutch his leg,

“MOTHER FU-dger….” he said, almost swearing but catching himself mid cuss and improvising the rest, remembering he was in the company of a twelve-year-old. He looked to her with obvious irritation and asked her what exactly her problem was.

“We’re almost there,” she replied matter-of-factly. Her little brown face was intelligent and had an expression so as to say she was always very sure of herself. “I have to tell you what’s going to happen and where to go once we get there.”

“Briefing me on the mission then, huh?” said Jesse, his voice suggested seriousness, yet in a way it was playful too. Fareeha was looking to follow Ana’s footsteps and be a hero, work for Overwatch and all that. Letting her on this way allowed her to feel as if she was training for it, regardless of Ana’s protests. He could easily see this little girl all grown up, taking charge and being a leader just like her mom. It’s like she was made for it.

“Yes.” Fareeha grinned, her chin lifted proudly into the air. “So pay attention.”

“Yes ma’am.” said Jesse, and sat back to listen to her instructions.

 

She spoke clearly throughout, and her instructions were pretty straightforward. After reciting it well enough a first time, Fareeha insisted she do so again for a second, and then a third, all the while questioning Jesse throughout to be sure that he was paying attention, and understood everything that was being explained to him. The instructions ended with Jesse having to recite their plans Gabe had given them, and then again with all the details until Fareeha was satisfied with his recital. Fareeha cleared her throat and asked if she could answer any more questions. While Jesse had rather wished they could stop talking (so that he could sleep the rest of the way,) he did have a few things to ask:

“So about this place we’re going to,”

“Skidegate.”

“Right. I’d never heard of this place until just now, and I didn’t even know you had a dad around here. This place has gotta be where he lives, right?”

“Well yes, obviously. But we’re not going directly there, we’re going to-”

“Sandspit airport.”

“Don’t interrupt me.”

Jesse almost made a face, but continued nonetheless after an apologetic ‘yes ma’am’:

“So once we drive and take the ferry to Graham island and we get to your dad’s house we just.. Hang out until he gets there?”

“That’s the plan.”

 

Jesse’s brows furrowed, asking himself why he did this again. “Why is your dad in British Columbia?”

Fareeha’s face made it seem as if he should have already known the answer like he was asking her a painfully obvious question he should know the answer to. It was obvious to her, at least, but her expression softened again once she remembered that Jesse had only known her for a short while.

“Oh, nobody told you? My dad’s Canadian. I hardly get to see him, and now I’m allowed to visit for a whole week. Pretty neat huh?”

 

The young man’s eyes widened a little. No, he didn’t know that, and nobody told him. Guess it wasn’t something he necessarily needed to know, but it made sense since Ana initially wasn’t what you would call ‘ecstatic’ about his and Fareeha’s interactions. Not that he could blame her…Former gang members tended to not be the first thought that came to mind when role models and positive influences came into question. But because of this, he didn’t get to know little Fareeha too well. If it weren’t for her curious (and at times _annoying)_ and constant pestering questions that all kids her age seemed to have, they probably would never have met. But she was a good kid.

“You’re shhhh-” he stopped, dragging the ‘sh’ until he could improvise a new word. No swearing. “-shkidding me…?” he finished. Nailed it.

“Nope. But you’re native too, aren’t you?”

 

His heart skipped a beat, not expecting that answer. _You’re native_ **_too_ ** , she said. Odd, after all this time he’d never expected that little miss Amari was half native. Guess it just never came up. He wondered who had told her about _his_ half-native status, considering he’d only told Gabe that he was Native American, and it was to correct his racial status on his profile from simply “Mexican American” to “ _Mixed_  Mexican/Native American”. Oddly enough, knowledge on his lineage was limited. But it felt wrong not to include both. Jesse scratched the cheek that Fareeha had jabbed at, searching for some sort of reply. She asked too many questions, he thought.

“Well, aren’t you? Or is it one of those ‘my-grandma-was-a-Cherokee-princess’ type of things? _Are_ you Cherokee?”

Jesse looked insulted and immediately ceased his cheek scratching. “God, no. You’re mixing me up with Morrison.”

Fareeha giggled, and her face immediately lit up as if she knew exactly what he was talking about, and found it to be all very humorous, and it was. Jesse let out a lighthearted laugh of his own and shook his head. Dances-with-wolves over there only seemed to be Native American (a whole impressive _9%_ Shawnee to be exact) when it was convenient for him to mention during a conversation. The geek. Truth be told, he was about as white as 2% milk. Once he had recovered some from his giggling, Jesse replied;

“No, I’m a bunch of different things. Mostly Navajo and Rarámuri,” said Jesse. He swallowed air hard at feeling his ears pop, and looked to the window. His chest rose in anticipation and whelming admiration for the endless blue that he saw. He didn’t think a color could be so naturally saturated.

“I’ve never heard of the second one before,” said Fareeha, pulling his attention away from the window. Jesse looked at her and shrugged, “Makes sense, I guess. But basically, they’re Native people from Mexico. I’m half Mexican.”

“That part I knew, too.” replied she, giving a knowing nod, “I remember you saying that. You said English is your second language, right? Mine is too, of course.”

“Did Gabe tell ya about me bein’ Indian?” he asked. Fareeha shook her head, “Nope. Angela did.” Jesse made a face at her reply. “She told me after she looked at your Medical file.”

 

He made another face. That sounded like Angela; she was always nosey about other people’s biological stats, and into their medical business hoping to practice what she could in her medical field. He had lost count of the times she’d chided him on about smoking cigarettes, and drinking too much coffee. Must have been a doctor thing, he guessed. But before he could speak any more on the subject with her, their conversation was interrupted with the scratchy bark of the Plane intercom, and the pilot instructing the two of them to prepare for landing.

 

Once he stepped down into Canadian territory, he knew he’d get tired of the weather fast. Fareeha explained that this year had been particularly cold, despite the coastal region having generally mild weather throughout the year. Just his luck, he’d freeze.

The ferry ride was boring, uneventful. His young escortee kept the trip somewhat less boring with conversation. She told him about what it was like, what to expect, about how sometimes you could see whales if you stood at the right place, and things of that sort. He’d never seen a whale before. Once he’d been told about the whales, Fareeha dragged him to the window to watch for any of them with her. No such luck, but the scenery was nice.

 

They took a Taxi to the house from there, not too long of a drive, but once Fareeha had let him in, he threw his bags to the side and plunged hard into the first couch he spotted, the springs squeaking beneath his ribs. A contented sigh escaped his lips, and he let himself slip into sleep.


	3. Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: descriptions of food, so if you're uncomfortable with that, skip a few paragraphs! Enjoy!

His awakening is sudden just as it was before. Jesse’s eyes blink open, and he flings himself forward into a sitting position. His throat burns for a hot second, and he figures he might’ve snorted or coughed himself awake. Just as he’s oriented himself again, he can hear Fareeha’s voice call from the kitchen, “Hey. Didja sleep good?” she asks. He cranes his neck in his upward position from the couch, and he can see that she’s rested on her elbows at the table, a plate in front of her.  
“Yeah” he replies, although he’s not entirely sure if that’s true. The answer seems to be good enough for her, however, and she calls him to join her. “I made supper,” she stated. The tone of her voice suggested that the dinner was something very much to be proud of.

A squeak came from the couch as Jesse rose, and his back cracked just as he stretched. He then sauntered into the kitchen as asked, and finds that he’d already been dished up for. A plate made up of macaroni and cheese sat on the stove; he laughs and takes the plate to a spot next to Fareeha. He’s already stuffed a forkful of food into his mouth when Fareeha asks him what’s so funny, and he scoffs down what he can to answer, “Nothin’. You didn’t have to make food by yourself you know, I could’ve helped. We could’ve had somethin’ healthier, I guess.”  
Fareeha scrunched her nose at that. “I’m twelve, leave me alone. I’m just getting the hang of cooking.”  
“Mm. I was cooking for myself at eleven.”  
“Whatever,” says Fareeha finally. They eat in silence with only the sound of a fork scratching the plate surface echoes in the room. 

Jesse jabs at his macaroni, somewhat bored. It’s then that he realizes he hadn’t been able to properly scan the house, or appreciate its appearance. His gaze leaves what’s left of his food, and studies the area around him; the kitchen is painted a light blue, reminding him of the stunning color he saw from the plane ride. From his seat he can see a lovely, wide archway leading into the kitchen in front of him, with an island wedged in front of the table, yet blocking the view of the counter, and in front of the fridge; its silvery form catches the light of the kitchen and blinds him, and so his eyes move to a different direction. 

There’s a cabinet to his left, cluttered with items, and expensive looking plates displayed on shelves. He can see his reflection that sits in the cabinet, as well as a number of family photos, mostly of Fareeha in varying ages. Three photographs sit neatly on the shelf, all framed, and contain the likeness of a slightly younger but recognizable Ana. The young man guessed she was in her early or mid-twenties in them and found a good resemblance between the young girl who sat with him, and the young woman in the photo. His eyes flickered between the photos of Fareeha and Ana, comparing the two: Jesse smiles once he spots a chubby-cheeked baby with ridiculously thick hair, smiling, and two teeth bared.   
“Who’s that cute kid?” he says, motioning to the photo with a point of his lips. His motion doesn’t go unnoticed by the girl. “You point with your lips? My dad does that too..” she grins, and the two share a hearty laugh. “You know what would be really native?” he asks, and his voice cracks from the labor of trying to calm himself from giggling any further. Fareeha looks to him suspiciously, but with a smile, and narrows her eyes at him. “What?” she replies. Jesse sits forward, locking eyes with her, “We could’ve had frybread, too.”   
“No way! Bannock is better. It’s good with oolichan grease.” Fareeha interjected. Jesse’s mouth formed a wide “O” in joking woundedness. Nevertheless, the room is echoed with their laughs again. 

The two were so preoccupied with the mirth that neither had noticed the creak of the front door. Jesse’s abdomen was just beginning to recover from his laughing that he had seen Fareeha practically fly out of her chair and run past him, her hair whipping his cheek. He turned around hand over his stomach and saw who had unexpectedly entered. Must be her parent, he thought.

From his seat, Jesse can see that Fareeha’s been scooped up into the taller person’s arms, and the two gently swayed side to side. Fareeha’s feet touch the ground with a light tap, and the host’s gaze appropriately turns to Jesse,   
“Who’s your friend? Is he the escort?” they asked. Fareeha looked past her shoulder, her neck dramatically falling back while she held fast onto her parent’s waist for support, “Uh huh. This is my friend, Jesse.”

The young man decidedly pushed himself out of the chair, and made his way towards his host; that was as good as an invitation to introduce himself as any. Jesse’s hand reached out to grasp the other’s hand, his knuckles squished together from the firm squeeze in the shake; it’s then that he realizes how tall this person is, and this tall person introduces himself as Adam.   
Long lines of dimples and smile marks appear at the edges of Adam’s mouth when he shoots Jesse a smile, his raven hair sprawled about his shoulders as he did so. Jesse studied it a quick moment, almost envious. A memory came to mind, but it was quickly pushed away: the thought of scissors in hand and springly threads hanging about the base of his neck had irked him some. 

Adam’s voice brought Jesse back to the present; Adam hardly gave him a chance to think before he had pummeled him with questions about how his trip was if he would be staying, did he enjoy the scenery, etcetera. Jesse’s eyes briefly turned to a grinning Fareeha, still clinging to Adam’s waist. Guess he found out where she got it from.

Before he could speak, Adam interrupted him yet again, albeit this time to apologize for the number of questions he’d just asked, and then again for interrupting. Nevertheless, Jesse wasn’t terribly offended by the interruption and was content to answer all of them. 

The trio had made their conversation elsewhere and ended up speaking pleasantly for a time in the living area, which Jesse had also come to appreciate. It was a warm space to be sure: a dark red in color, and currently lit only by a few lamps at each corner of the room, and what light that remained coming in through the window. A space heater cleverly designed as a false fireplace completed the aesthetic of the room, making for quite a homey space. Jesse quite enjoyed it. 

It was in this comfort (and the softness of the couch beneath him) that enabled the young man to drift into a sleep again, if only briefly. It was the buzz of his phone lying in his lap that had woken him, rousing him from a rather pleasant nap.His fingers lazily picked up the phone and held it to his eyes, still blurred from drowsiness. Gabe. 

Jesse answered the phone reluctantly but obediently, bringing the phone to his ear and greeted the man with a hoarse-voiced “hello”.

“Hey Jesse. Were you able to make it to the house? Has Mister Amari arrived?”  
“Yessir. He’s sitting right in front of me.”  
“And Fareeha is happy, as well?”  
“Of course.” Jesse grinned.  
“Good. Now let me tell it to you straight kid, if you were hoping to go home the same night then I’m afraid that’s just not going to fly,”

Jesse rolled his eyes and yet couldn’t withstrain a grin, practically feeling Gabe’s smirk on the other line at that pun. The moment passed, however, and he reassessed the situation. Somehow he already knew that- Gabriel had mentioned it earlier, in his plans for the trip.  
“So I’m to stay with the Amari’s here, then?”  
“Yes. I’d rather you get some rest rather than to soldier on for part two of this mission.”  
His eyebrows furrowed at that, his better instinct restrained him from arguing that he was perfectly capable of moving onto ‘part two’ with a lack of sleep if need be. No point in arguing though- truth be told, it’d be nice to get some sleep anyway.  
“Jesse?”  
“I’m still here. How long, then? Until tomorrow?”

Silence came from the other line, save for a brief rustle of papers and a buzz of a holovid in the background noise. It took some time before Gabe had answered, but Jesse had already come to his own conclusion.  
“Two days at least. Plans call for you to be there a while before we can group up appropriately. I’ll explain everything once we do.”  
“You can’t just tell me now?”  
“No, not here. It’ll be better if I elaborate on site, and your memory will be fresh for the mission at that time anyway. Just trust me.”

The line went quiet, save for a guttural groan on Jesse’s end. Currently, going ahead with the mission without rest somehow now seemed more appealing over this. He felt as if this mission would never happen; it was all taking so long, and now it was going to drawl on even further. Further than he’d hoped. With the line still quiet, he accepted this new plan for what it was and sighed before speaking, irritation still evident in his tone:   
“Alright. You’re the boss. I’ll see you in a few, then?”  
“Yes I am. I’ll see you then.”

Jesse kept the phone to his ear, allowing the line to go dead and ring for some time before allowing himself to become irritated enough (even more so) to close the device to silence it. With minimal effort, he slumped back into his old reclining position and sat in uncomfortable silence with himself. The little family paid him no mind, or rather, he didn’t notice if they did. His chest felt heavy, cold: suddenly he felt very alone and very out of place here. Homesick might’ve been a way to put it, and suddenly he then thought himself very silly for admitting it. 

The heat of the New Mexico sun is what he needed, where he belonged: although for some time now he’d been staying with Gabe at a Californian watchpoint, and that hadn’t helped his homesickness any, save for the similar harsh weather. But here the weather was the exact opposite: it seemed like everything was gray. The water was freezing and blasted him in the face on the ferry, the air was humid and damp, and everything was cold. A lovely scene maybe, but only in gray. He missed the orange dunes of Sante Fe and the blue skies, the green cacti, all of it. Now that’s where he needed to be.

Jesse’s thoughts about his home were interrupted by Adam, however, when he was bombarded with further questions about what his plan was and should he expect to be staying. They were necessary questions, however, and so Jesse kept a cool composure when answering them, despite his now sour mood. 

Once it was established that he would be staying the night, he was shown to an extra room down the hall, near the living room, in fact. Had he any money, Jesse might’ve taken to staying at a hotel out of courtesy for the Amari’s. It’s not like Adam wanted to see him or anything- he was only there to drop off Fareeha. 

Jesse threw his bags into his temporary residence, and took to laying on the bed he was given, exhausted again despite how much he had napped that day. It wasn’t long after he’d almost gotten to sleep that little Fareeha had come in and jumped on the bed with him. The sudden bounce of the bed underneath him had shaken the young man awake, only to see the younger one near the edge of the bed, grinning at him.  
His expression became sour, and his eyebrows furrowed, “I was sleeping.” he groaned. Fareeha’s smile immediately dropped, and her eyes were cast down. Dark brown lashes hovered over her drooping eyes in a pitiful expression: “I’m sorry. I thought you’d still be wide awake.”  
“Well I’m not, little lady,” said Jesse, his elbow shifted to allow himself to sit up and give his attention to his new guest. Or host, now that he was indeed staying at her parents’ house. With a free hand, he lazily attempted to rub the drowsiness from his eyes, but it was then that Fareeha sat up and looked to be leaving,  
“Wait,” Jesse called to her, tiredness still evident in his croaky voice: “Why’d you come in here? You need something?”

Fareeha’s exit was halted at the door, her free hand grasping the edge of the door frame: her little brown face met his again and she shrugged, a mixture of obvious sympathy and apology tinged her expression and mouth when she half smiled: “You looked lonely earlier. Me and my dad were just talking the whole time, but you didn’t say anything. I thought you might want to hang out or something.”

An uncomfortable silence came between them, and Jesse heard his teeth grinding before he noticed he was doing it. Heat rose into his cheeks before he looked away, ashamed for the way he’d acted. Poor kid just wanted to make him feel better. Before he could think of any sort of apology, Fareeha gave him a friendly (yet quiet) ‘goodnight’ before slipping out of his room and closing the door behind her.


	4. A short trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of smoking, more mentions of food. Enjoy!!

 

The morning that Jesse had awoken, his neck hurt him, but the pain soon subsided and he was able to rise properly. Apparently, he’d been so tired that he hadn’t even bothered to remove his clothes in exchange for night wear, and had fallen asleep with what he’d worn the day before.

 Sunlight filtered through his window through the curtains, although it wasn’t much of a curtain- it was a thin blanket, in fact, and the light that had come through created a red tinge in the room. He had a similar setup in his old residence, and for half a moment he felt homesick again.

 His homesickness soon subsided in the business of the morning, however: as soon as he was properly dressed and readied for the morning, he’d entered the kitchen to realize that Adam had given them a hearty breakfast. They took their time eating, and a friendly discussion took place at the table, speaking of impersonal and trivial things. By noon they had finished their meal, and the dishes were left to sit in the sink while the trio left to shop for groceries at Adam’s insistence.

 Shopping was uneventful but necessary. Adam insisted on bringing Jesse with them so as to free him from idleness, though this trip had somewhat caused him boredom. The three split off with Fareeha staying with her parent until halfway through the shopping she’d gone to look for Jesse, and busied him with her usual friendly chatter. Adam made certain to let Jesse know to look specifically for packaging with the words “Halal” stamped onto them for Fareeha.

 The day eventually came to an end, and an early supper was made for the three of them. A short television show later and Adam was called to work for reasons he didn’t care to specify. But this had given Fareeha the perfect chance for more familial bonding, and to show Jesse the area. Fareeha and Adam spent the car ride reciting words in both Haida and Arabic to each other, with some minor corrections in between once words were said incorrectly. Eventually, they’d worked up to speaking Arabic in short conversations to one another, rather than simply repeating singular words and short phrases. Jesse listened to their chatter from his own seat on the passenger side and rolled down his window halfway. He figured doing this would enable him to pull out a cigarette at some point. If anything on the ride was worth noting, it was that he thought he’d spotted a coyote. The air was cold, and small bits of moisture whipped into his face, but it was strangely warmer than the day before.

“Am I getting any better?” asked Adam. His hands sturdy on the wheel as he drove, and Fareeha practically leaning off her seat and standing behind him to grasp the headboard of his seat,

“You are! Better than last time, Baba. You’ve been practicing?”

“I’ve got the dictionary lying on my bed every night. I read before I sleep.”

Fareeha seemed very pleased at that.

“You know Mama gets happy when she hears you speak Arabic. Am I any better in Haida?”

 Jesse turned his head to look at the two briefly: dimples indented into Adam’s cheeks were easily seen as he smiled, “Of course. We’ll both be fluent by the time you’re an adult at this rate.”

 The young man was caught off guard, and for the time up until then felt detached from the scene, as if he were simply watching television: but Adam had turned to him, and had to repeat what he’d asked because Jesse hadn’t heard it in his apparent daze.

“You speak Indian, Jess?” he asked again. Jesse shook his head into reality again, stuttering a moment before being able to articulate an answer, “Er... No sir.” he replied. Jesse turned his gaze back out the window, quietly fumbling in his pocket for his Marlboro's and lighter. That same question kept ringing in his head: _do you speak Indian, do you speak Indian?_ The truth in his answer is what set a lump in his throat. Having to say ‘no’ to that in the presence of two people who very obviously could speak their own languages made him feel like… something not good. Embarrassed, maybe. He couldn’t articulate what that was exactly, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“He speaks Spanish, though,” said Fareeha. Adam nodded in approval and commented that it was a beautiful language, and how he’d wished to learn it as well as French in his younger days. While Adam and Fareeha had continued their conversing, Jesse had been glaring out his window with a cigarette in his mouth, hand still digging for his lighter. That damn loneliness had crept up again, and he’d wish Gabe would call, tell him he could get going with the mission, or even go home. Most of the ride had been a blur, with Fareeha as background noise rallying what she’d learned about Skidegate in books, besides what her father taught her. Jesse’s mind came into consciousness again once they’d been parked, and Fareeha excitedly pointed out a number of hover-cyclists parked next to them.

 “I’ll be back in a bit,” Adam declared, and the two to watch the vehicle while he’d gone into one of the buildings that they’d parked next to. The youths ultimately decided on exiting the vehicle so that Jesse could see what the rez had to offer, as Fareeha had wished he’d see.

 The Totem poles are what he noticed first.

 In front of the two of them, a number of buildings stood framed by enormous pine trees in the background: the wood of the buildings was gray and aged, but there was evidence they had been taken care of in the past years. The largest building front was covered in mostly windows, reflecting the scene behind them.  At the center of each building were towering poles with traditional designs, paints of red and blue and black faded into the wood, but nevertheless still stunning. Jesse thought it only added to the intensity and impressiveness of the woodwork. They were _huge_.

 The young man instinctively walked towards the closest pole and reached out to touch the wood of it: his hand retracted a moment before he turned to his side and realized Fareeha had come up next to him. The wonder in his eyes spoke enough without him breathing a word, and Fareeha grinned before nodding. Somehow he felt as if he needed permission: he still felt very foreign to the area, but he turned again to the decorative carving and traced along the design of it, which had been much bigger than he imagined.

 In those few moments of examining the carving, Jesse’s cigarette had gone limp in his mouth, having been preoccupied and failed to properly light the end of it. Fareeha laughed in approval, a hint of pride sat in her voice when she spoke,

“So, what do you think of Skidegate?”

Jesse reluctantly tore his eyes from the design, still amazed, and shrugged, “It’s cold.”

“Pfft. That’s it? I know _that_. I guess you don’t find it bad since you’re feeling up a cedar pole here.”

 As if to prove a point, Jesse removed his hand from the wood and laughed, “I’m just screwin’ with ya. But this-” he stopped himself mid-sentence in an attempt to figure out what exactly he was trying to say. Nearly the whole time he’d been here, he’d wished he’d leave. Not that the company of Fareeha (or even Adam) was terrible, and he quite enjoyed the two: but for some reason, this particular trip had left him lonely and miserable in such an unfamiliar place so different from his own. Being asked what he had thought of the place suddenly put an even deeper lump in his throat, and a tinge of guilt settled into his chest for thinking so negatively of a place that had now just put him in a sort of daze- like he was set in a whole other world. It was spine tingling.

Jesse took a few steps back to appreciate as much of the carving as he could, his neck craned backward and felt painful from the night of sleeping in an odd position, but he ignored it. Just as long as he got to see what the cedar pole had to offer.

“Don’t have anything like this in Santa Fe, huh?” asked Fareeha. She had allowed her last question to go unanswered, and Jesse’s lack of words seemed an appropriate reaction enough to satisfy her. The smug yet appreciative grin stayed on her lips. “Not quite,” said Jesse, shaking his head in agreement.

They stood there for some time, admiring the scene and the enormity of the poles, and even the architecture of the buildings that paid homage to traditional Haida housing. Fareeha explained that this was where her Father had worked for some years and was a Heritage Centre, where she regularly visited with him whenever she could.

“I know what you mean about the cold though,” she said, interrupting herself, “I prefer Cairo’s weather. I don’t mind the heat, but I hate being cold.”

“You ever get homesick when you’re here?”

Fareeha shrugged, “Sometimes. But I miss my dad, so I can stand it.”

 Jesse restrained himself from asking why it was that Fareeha’s parents lived in separate parts of the world, yet seemingly still in a relationship. He figured if he was correct in his own calculations of the matter, he ought to not repeat it to her. _It’s not my business_ , he thought.

 Their conversation was cut short once their attention had been turned to a number of people exiting the heritage center in a small group of five, whom they had initially hoped was Adam finally leaving to take them home. These people happened to be the owners of the hover-bikes in the front parking lot that they had seen earlier.

“I used to have me one of those,” said Jesse, now appreciating the look of the bikes as their owners mounted them, preparing to leave. Fareeha’s face lit up, and begged Jesse to rally the details of his own bike to her. Before Jesse could give an answer, Adam emerged from the building along with someone else, presumably a co-worker. Their uniform suggested the occupation of perhaps a nightguard, or building security. It took only a second for Fareeha to once again link her arm with her Father’s. Jesse followed.

 Fareeha had begun to go on about her knowledge about Haida culture and the history of Skidegate again, information which she never seemed to run out of. And if she wasn’t talking about Skidegate, she was talking about Egypt and proudly telling her dad everything she knew about her home. The kid knew her stuff. Although Adam already must have known about the Haida parts, he listened attentively and smiled to whatever she told him.

The stranger accompanying Adam smiled at Jesse, although it didn’t look much like a smile. Their lips formed into a barely upturned, thin line, and said hello to him.

“This is my daughter’s friend, Jesse. He’s staying with us for a while,” said Adam. Jesse was rather glad he spoke for him, this person gave him the creeps. Would’ve felt strange to introduce himself. The person introduced themselves as Daniel. Adam began to chat with Daniel about trivial things, but Daniel kept looking to Jesse, whether or not he looked back at him. Daniel's eyes were an icy blue, intense and electric, but not in a good way. A chill went down his spine every time Daniel caught him looking, though he never smiled, and looked more to be glaring.

Fareeha hopped back into the vehicle, while Adam retreated to the building again, apparently having forgotten something. Jesse was about to follow Fareeha to the vehicle, but Daniel had stopped him as his hand gripped the handle:

“Where you from, son?” he asked. Jesse turned to face him but didn’t look him in the eye. He didn’t like being called ‘son’, at least not by this person.

“Santa Fe,” replied Jesse dryly. He was about to open the door at last, but he was interrupted again,

“That tattoo on your arm, it looks like a similar tattoo I saw on another fellow a few years back.”

 He froze. The hairs on his neck stood up, and for a moment everything went blurry, but Daniel didn’t stop talking, even when Jesse pulled on the handle in an attempt to hurry inside the vehicle. The very sound of his voice put knots into Jesse’s stomach.

“Coincidence, I guess,” said Jesse,

“You Native American, kid?”

“No.”

That was all he said. Jesse was relieved to be back in his seat and slammed the door as soon as he was in. His thigh nearly caught on the door as he shut it. Jesse stared straight ahead but saw nothing. He felt Fareeha’s eyes on him, though she said nothing, and he realized Adam had apparently already entered the car and drove out of the parking lot.

Jesse’s eyes traveled reluctantly to his arm, where the Deadlock insignia had been branded in ink on his forearm, but instead, he saw the covering of his jacket. His sleeves were rolled down.


	5. Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If all this domestic stuff is boring you, I'm sorry, it'll only last about 3 chapters longer tops, I promise omg. Then. You will see. No spoilers but. You will see.
> 
> Anyways, thank you peoples SO MUCH for all your love and support, I really appreciate it! xoxo
> 
> Warnings: death mention

Jesse went straight to his room and ignored both Fareeha and Adam: if they paid any attention to him in the first place, he didn’t notice. He spent most of the evening lying on the bed, sick with worry about the person he had just encountered. If there was an explanation for what had just happened, he came to the conclusion that it was this: if he was once wanted for thousands for dollars in the United States, then he very well was wanted in Canada as well. Of course, Jesse’s joining of Overwatch had gotten him out of jail, and legally speaking, he was no longer wanted due to his involvement with the organization. Maybe the laws in Canada didn’t work that way, he thought.

I’m a goddamn idiot, he said, scolding himself. The entire right half of his body had become numb from being there for so long, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. All he thought about now was what had happened, and what he was going to tell Adam and Fareeha or even Gabe if Daniel showed up, eager to collect him and turn him in for a sturdy reward, or something worse. The possibilities that came into his mind were beginning to get ridiculous, and he knew this- yet he couldn’t stop his mind from running everywhere, thinking up the worst case scenario.

After what must have been hours, a small knock came from the door. He ignored it. Another knock. He ignored it. After the third time of ignoring the knocking, (a sound which had come closer to a bang), he heard Fareeha call from the other end,   
“Jesse can I please come in?” she asked, her voice muffled from the other end of the door. Jesse had no initially had no inclination to respond, and he left the response hanging in the void. After some minutes, he finally sat up from his lying position and realized Fareeha was still sitting on the front of his door, with her shadow blocking the light of the hallway and the fabric of her clothes seeping under the door.

Defeated he sighed, and rose from the bed to answer the door for her. Once the door was open, she immediately stood to face him. The two stood there in silence, Jesse’s right side still prickly and dead from lying down too long. Dark brown eyes continued to stare at Jesse; the innocence and sympathy reflected in them were enough to wish he hadn’t opened the door. She’d try to get this out of him one way or another, but he had no plans on telling her.

He moved aside to let her in, but he’d gone right back to his old position and faced the window. Fareeha gently sat at the edge of the bed with him just as she’d done the night before, and some moments went by before she’d said anything.  
“What’s wrong?” she asked. The sympathy in her voice nearly made him laugh: this kid cared about everybody.  
“Nothing.”   
“Sitting in here for two hours without talking isn’t nothing.”  
“It’s complicated.”  
“I’m pretty smart.”  
“Do you ever stop talking?” Jesse retorted, becoming irritated now. Fareeha shrugged,  
“I can, but I’m not going to.”  
“Yeah, I think that would kill you.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It’s not like he could very well tell her. If anything, it’d only endanger her and her family. He’d begun to think of ways that he could leave, or sneak out with an excuse and get to do the mission early. Best to leave before any trouble stirred up. As he thought of a plan regarding this, Fareeha gently placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke again,   
“Why did you tell that guy you weren’t Native?”

A sigh came from him and it took superhuman effort to sort his thoughts for something appropriate to say without completely revealing what he didn’t want to reveal. If he’d told her that there was a possibility the price his bounty got around and people found out where he was staying, he’d make her anxious. By no means did he want to ruin Fareeha’s trip. Yet here he was, right on the edge of screwing everything over. He’d come this far and already things were going to shit. Guess that’s what he was good at, he thought. Telling Daniel that he wasn’t Native American meant that there was a possibility of putting doubt in his mind that maybe he wasn’t the Jesse he was looking for, if only a small chance. That was one reason.

But the other was that he had said ‘no’ on a whim; he didn’t quite think all of that through. He just wanted to escape being interrogated by Daniel, and essentially said whatever he could in order to get in the car.   
“It’d be better if that guy didn’t know exactly who I was, and telling him that helps, let’s just say that.”

Fareeha didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, but she left it alone. Her eyes shifted in thought, mainly on what he’d said.   
“I’m not like you, Fareeha,” said Jesse suddenly, surprising her, “I wouldn’t put it past that guy if he believed what I said.”

The young girl seemed touched by that. He hadn’t said much, but somehow she immediately knew what he meant: he felt fake. Sure, Fareeha knew much about her heritage, but she knew not everybody else did, and she’d still seen the effects of the disbelief. There had been times where people had reacted oddly to finding out her native ancestry. Things like, ‘well, you don’t look native.’ or, ‘You can’t be Egyptian AND first nations!’ It was all very irritating. If she’d still gotten responses such as that, then she couldn’t imagine what Jesse had to go through. 

Before he knew it, she’d crawled across the bed and put her arms around him, briefly nestling her head into the crook of his neck. They sat there for a long while, but Jesse didn’t move. Once she’d released him from her grip, they continued to sit on separate ends of the bed.

The room was getting quite dark now, as neither of them had bothered to turn on the light upon entering, and what dim light that had come into the room was from the window; filtered only by the blanket hanging in front of it and giving the walls a maroon stain. Everything looked more like a dark haze, but Jesse could see Fareeha staring at her hands, and fiddling with them. He was glad it was hard to make out each other’s expressions, for he must’ve been making quite a few sour ones in piecing together how he felt.  
Fareeha, her voice was small and mousy, had asked him to tell her about himself, and that she would do so in return. Compared to the time of silence they’d sat in, her tiny voice was booming as if the very sound could break the walls. Jesse agreed. It was in this dark room that they’d realized although they had spoken and hung out many times over the past year, they really didn’t know much of each other at all. They never really talked. Any other day he might’ve disagreed- but he figured it would get her to forget about Daniel, and maybe help him forget about it for a while too.

At that point, the two of them had grown tired of sitting in the dark, and the light was turned on. Each pause between their exchange of speaking had been only interrupted by the whirring of the fan overhead, as the house had become irritatingly heated. Jesse and Fareeha had taken to laying on their backs next to each other on the bed, staring at the ceiling as if they were stargazing. 

Jesse explained he was originally from Church Rock reserve but had moved to Sante Fe with his mother as a child:  
“My mamá married a real pretty Navajo lady after dad died. I don’t remember much, though.”  
“What were they like?” asked Fareeha, gently turning her head towards him.   
“Mamá loved running. If she could walk or run somewhere instead of driving, she’d do it. Wore her hair down a lot of the time, or in a scarf. I get my Rarámuri blood from her. Both my mum and dad knew Spanish, and I grew up on that. Became fluent in English when I was about six. M’ dad used to wear this ridiculous cowboy hat around all the time, and he loved watchin westerns with me. And my other Ma? Oh, she was so pretty! Her favorite color was blue, and she loved me right away as her own kid even though it took me a little while to love her back. Nicest lady in the world, I don’t think she had a mean bone in her body. I remember both my parents loved Mamá’s eyes a lot, ‘cause they were so brown, and dark-”  
“Like yours!” Fareeha interrupted. Jesse, who had been staring at the ceiling as he was speaking, turned his head to face his young friend: her lips were pulled up ever so slightly into a sweet smile, her eyes gleaming. She seemed very interested in what he had to say, and at this point, he had become embarrassed at speaking so much about himself, even though that’s what the point of their conversation was. But nobody had ever asked him much about himself, his life, his parents. Or rather, he had never talked about it quite like this.

His head flicked to the side in general agreement with her comment, although it had quite caught him off guard: from what he could remember about his mother, he shared little to no resemblance to her and had been repeatedly told in his younger years how much he looked like his dad. Realizing now that they had the exact same eye color gave him something to hold onto a new memory or something to be fond of, he supposed.

Jesse closed his eyes and exhaled air through his nose, as if doing so would relieve stress or help him remember better, but for the latter it didn’t, and he expressed this as if he were answering a question that his young friend was about to ask: “I don’t remember.” he said finally.

Another silence came between them, and they sat that way for some time before Fareeha turned on her side and sat up a little, breaking the silence,  
“Well, none of that matters. You know why?”

Jesse didn’t answer because he didn’t have one. Nevertheless, Fareeha looked at him with her serious, little brown face and continued, “Because I know you’re not a fake, no matter what anybody else thinks, because you’re native in here-” her little hand hovered over his chest and poked the center of it, motioning his heart before retracting it again. Jesse was touched, yet he still felt unconvinced:  
“But I know nothing about nothing,”  
“So? If that’s what it takes, what are _you_ going to do about it?” 

He said nothing. He didn’t have an answer. Eventually, Fareeha had nodded and given another sympathetic smile; “My dad used to know nothing about being Haida either. He only started learning because I got interested first, and he wanted to learn with me. I know people here who know nothing, but that doesn’t make them less Haida than me,” she sat up and removed herself from the bed, slightly satisfied with the look of surprise on her older friends’ face. Speaking this way made her feel very grown up. She smoothed the wrinkles on her clothes and headed towards the door but stopped again, leisurely lying about the doorway, “That’s your Indian wisdom for the day,” she joked.   
“Okay, granny.” Jesse laughed. That laughter was like the first domino to cause a chain reaction of the both of them laughing, with Jesse practically rolling on the bed and Fareeha leaning on the door for support. It really wasn’t that funny, but there was something therapeutic and contagious in the continuous giggles, and so it went on from there.

 

“You shouldn’t stay cooped up here. Come and watch soap operas with us, I’m sure you’ll feel better. I’ll tell you about myself like I said, but I’ll do it there.” Fareeha said, finally recovered. What she’d just said wasn’t much of a suggestion as it was an order. The little salute she gave him seemed to confirm this, and it seemed to him she decidedly left the room in a more joyful mood.


	6. Peace

All thought of the strange man Daniel had ceased to be remembered, even if only for a short time. He’d completely forgotten about it after speaking with Fareeha in such a way, but the feeling of anxiety from the matter still lightly sat within the pit of his being. For the time being, he ignored what he had left of it. 

 

Jesse left his room as asked some minutes later, and indeed came upon Adam and Fareeha sitting cozily on the sofa. By the looks of it, the soap opera hadn’t started, and they were instead forced to sit through a commercial. The young man took his spot next to Fareeha at the far right of the couch and was greeted by her.

“Jess! It’s good you're here,” she said, pointing toward the screen with her lips, “We’re just about to find out who stole Alexis’s diamond necklace.”

“Alexis?”

“The main character! Just watch, as soon as you sit down you’ll see.”

 

Jesse wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but before he could ask any further, he reminded them of their deal. She agreed to tell him more about herself.

“Of course! But I will the next commercial, the show is about to start.”

 

It seemed Fareeha wasn’t too keen on explaining the plot to him once the show started despite his hopes. Whenever he asked, she briefly gave an answer in rushed words before irritatingly shushing him, and even when he’d asked Adam instead, he’d done the same (Albeit more patiently) if Fareeha hadn’t shushed the both of them first. From that simple interaction, he found out that the two were very serious and involved with their soap operas, particularly this one.

There wasn’t much he could do, and so he kept track of everything without much reference as best he could. By the time that the next commercial had come around, he learned more about the main character Alexis and her $77,000 heirloom necklace scandal than he did about Fareeha. The young man didn’t fail to bring this up to her, and he was met with a snarky face,

“ _Na’_ , fine, I will! But let me get something to drink first, I’m thirsty.”

Fareeha did just that: she returned shortly, drinking heartily before deciding to go on. It seemed she wanted to keep him waiting simply because she could; she seemed to be in no terrible rush, although the hour was growing late, and they’d inevitably grow weary soon.

“Now, where were we?” she said; Adam had also gone into the kitchen and handed Jesse a cup out of courtesy. Jesse meekly thanked him and drank from it as Fareeha continued, 

“I was born at a newly made hospital in Cairo, which was lucky for my Mama because it was near her base of operations at the time anyway, so she was even able to do paperwork while pregnant with me. The first time I came to Skidegate was when I was nine. That seems like forever ago now! But Baba had been living with us in Egypt up until then, right Baba?” Fareeha turned her head around dramatically, and Adam nodded and smiled, as always. Every word after that last sentence had slowly become faster and faster, as she was trying to fit in as much information as possible:

 

“My dad’s blood type is O, but mine is B like my mum’s. My mum and dad named me together- my name means ‘Joy’, you know. I think I make them pretty happy. You know who else’s name means ‘happy’? My uncle Hani. Hani is Mom’s second cousin who lives in Alexandria, but I’m not sure if I was named after him. Uncle Hani is cool; did you know he’s a photographer? He went to the zoo and took pictures of my favorite animals himself and sent them to me for my birthday last year. You know what animals I like? Fennec foxes and Saker falcons. I have a bunch of books on them. Did you know that a fennec fox’s ears protect it from the heat? Pretty neat, right? And they’re so cute, too! That would be useful for humans- It once got  _ so hot  _ in Cairo that dad and me were sucking on ice to stay cool. We couldn’t go outside because it was too hot but at least inside we had the air conditioner. I still prefer hot over cold weather, though. Oh, shush, shush! The show is coming back on!”

 

The show indeed came quickly, and their attention turned to the tv again. Jesse was able to appreciate the plot more after a while, so much so that he had forgotten about learning more about Fareeha, and she’d forgotten about telling him. 

 

“ _ Na’ _ , he’s after your money, Alexis! He’s no good for you!” said Adam, clearly involved with the plot on Alexis and her newest affair.

“It’s just a show, Baba.”

“I know, but look! She has no idea what she’s doing.”

 

The show went on, as it did with the night. The conversations ceased to exist, save when Fareeha had finally remembered to talk more about herself. From the short commercial breaks, Jesse learned that Fareeha excelled in math and history, but had a more passionate interest in the latter, she was a fan of Dwayne Johnson,  and ( _ in addition to soap operas _ ) she and her father shared an interest in Hockey, her favorite color was blue, and she belonged to the Haida eagle clan. The responses after that grew slower, less excitable. He hadn’t noticed it before, but he turned to Fareeha after she failed to finish a sentence, and realized she’d fallen asleep. 

 

She lay cuddled up to Adam, her feet put up and her body formed into a ball. Jesse thought she looked very cute that way. Very soon after this, Adam carefully peeled his daughter from his side, and slung her gently into his arms. Jesse followed the two of them up the stairs, and opened the door for Adam once they’d reached Fareeha’s room, which was a light pink in color and plastered with posters of various superstars and celebrities; Dwayne Johnson and female hockey players seemed to be quite popular with her walls.

Once Fareeha had been carefully placed in her bed, the two men exited the room with Adam thanking Jesse for his assistance, and bidding him goodnight. Jesse was too tired himself himself was very fatigued from the busy day, and lazed to his own room for bed, again forgetting to change into his nightwear, and simply tore his shirt and tossed it. That would have to do for sleeping, as he was too tired to process anything else.

 

~

 

Jesse woke within the night, suddenly disturbed, though he hadn’t any idea why. Droplets of perspiration wet his sideburns and forehead, though it wasn’t relatively hot in the room; his eyes immediately caught an orange tinged light being emitted from his window through the red blanket, which he then reasoned must be that of the back porch he had seen at one point. This was strange, however, as it hadn’t been on at any time during his stay.

 

Slightly anxious by this revelation, Jesse fetched his discarded shirt and put it on at his exit of the room, and checked the window of the backdoor to investigate. To his relief, he saw only Adam seated on a lawn chair on the deck, smoking.

The young man quickly found the jacket that he had brought and went out to join Adam, who greeted him rather cheerfully,

“Why hullo, Jesse! What can I do for you?”

“Nothing, sir,” he replied, and took a seat to the opposite side of the deck, which barely had enough room to accompany the two of them, and at best might’ve allowed a small person to fit through the space in between. This wasn’t terribly uncomfortable or claustrophobic in his opinion, however. Jesse remembered the cigarettes still lying in his pocket, and retrieved them:

“Actually, I could use a light. I’ve lost m’ lighter”

“Not a problem.”

 

Adam threw his lighter to Jesse, who was able to light his cigarette with success and tossed it back to its owner. They smoked peacefully together without speaking for some time, as they’d come to appreciate the sound of frogs chirping in the distance, and admired the dark silhouette of the pine trees just ahead, and the navy blue light appearing overhead them. It was a tranquil night and an early morning.

 

Jesse might have left, but it was at this point that the strange man Daniel had come back into his mind, like an unwanted virus infecting his thoughts, spoiling his emotions and composure. Made him anxious again.

 

Before he could think of a way to bring this up casually, Adam pointed out his distressed expression and asked if everything was alright or if he needed anything. Jesse replied as casually as he could manage,

“That man we saw earlier, Daniel... who is he?”

 

Adam seemed surprised that he asked, blowing smoke from his nose. In this lighting Adam looked very cool, Jesse thought. The orange light fell on his face and smoke in such a way that Jesse thought he resembled a dragon breathing fire. Nevertheless, Adam answered patiently:

“Daniel? Oh, that man- he’s our night watchman at the heritage center, but he’s what you’d call a ‘parapolice’. He’s a little self-important, but he gets the job done. We hired him after a pretty nasty break in a few years back.”

“Do you trust him?”

 

Adam made a face, “Of course. Why do you ask?”

 

He sat there for a long while. Adam didn’t say anything. The ash and burning end of his cigarette bit into his fingers, burning him some. He tossed what was left of the onto the deck, stepping it out and kicking it away. Jesse didn’t dare look at his older companion, but instead curled inside himself and shrunk back into his chair, with only his right leg extended outward and bouncing anxiously. The air was so tense Jesse was sure he’d choke on it soon enough.

 

“Look uh… I’m not who you think I am” he said, finally. He knew it would be irresponsible and selfish to not tell Adam this, and it had gone on for far too long. If what he suspected about Daniel was true, then it’d be best to leave and not endanger his new friend any longer. Jesse continued, 

 

“I’m not... good. Or, I wasn’t. I think Daniel knows I’m not good, and he’s fixing to do something about it. I think I should go."

 

There. He said it. He told himself it wasn’t all bad, although the pounding beat against his chest and ringing in his ears would say otherwise. Adam remained painfully silent until he allowed a _h_ _ mph  _ to escape him, making Jesse jump a little.

 

“What did Daniel say to you?”

“Nothing,”  _ idiot, don’t lie _ , _ it’ll make things worse,  _ he thought. “I mean, not nothing… He knew who I was because of the tattoo on my arm, but he didn’t actually see it. I basically told him who I was by reacting to a question about it. He wants to turn me in. I’ll just go and make things easier for you.”

 

Silence. Until, quite surprisingly, his companion broke the silence:

  
“I know who you are,” said Adam, at last. Jesse’s head flung so quickly in his direction that he was sure it’d fly off. It didn’t. He did pull a muscle, however. The young man expected to see Adam furious, practically swallowing his cigarette or spraining his face from frowning. Thought maybe he’d be so mad he’d drag him off the porch and turn him in himself.

 

But he didn’t. Adam genuinely looked just as calm and content as he had at the beginning of their smoking session. He even smiled a little at him, sympathy in his eyes: “Fareeha talks about you all the time. I know your background with Deadlock. Ana says you’re a good lad, and I trust you.”

 

Jesse’s eyes became wide, and Adam laughed. Ana said he was good? That sent a calm into him a moment before he remembered his worries about Daniel again,

“But what about that guy?” he asked. His voice was shaking, but he was almost relieved at what Adam had just told him. Adam took a final drag of his cigarette before extinguishing it, “What about him? He can’t do anything to you. According to Ana, you’ve been legally pardoned. As far as anyone’s concerned, you’re doing a public service as an Overwatch agent.”

Adam looked to Jesse just then, and he was able to see a certain type of concern in his expression. It was almost sad, and he found it familiar in the looks Gabe had sometimes given him, though they looked nothing alike.

“No guests will be harmed while in my house, young man.”

That was possibly the most comforting thing Adam could have told him, although he wasn’t quite convinced. Jesse told Adam more of what had happened, and the terrible stares he’d been given, and his little interrogation. Adam sought to comfort Jesse further, as was his fatherly nature, it seemed:

 

“If he knows about you like you say, I think he was trying to scare you into good behavior. He probably thinks you’d cause trouble.”

 

That was probably meant to comfort Jesse, and it did to some extent, but he also felt insulted. He’d been on perfectly good behavior his whole eight months since being recruited, and still, he was under suspect. Not that he could blame anybody for this entirely, but it still stung.

“Guess I deserved that.”

“Oh, don’t be too hard on yourself. Hell, he is a bit of a strange guy, isn’t he? I’m sorry he’s made you uncomfortable.”

 

He  _ was _ more at ease by this point, but Jesse found it humorous that Adam had just swore; it was strange to hear after having grown accustomed to his quaint and chummy way of speaking. He didn’t even know he smoked, for another thing.

 

Neither of them bothered to take out another cigarette, but they sat out a while and talked. The blue light behind the trees gradually became more bright as they talked, but Jesse found the conversation of Adam to be very therapeutic. Neither of them could sleep, for whatever strange reason. Adam was very easy to talk to, and wasn’t judgemental at all. From this conversation, Jesse learned much about the man, and eventually worked up to asking him about how he met Ana, being from very different places in the world. Adam laughed warm-heartedly,

“Oh, that’s sort of a long story. But to shorten it out, I met her through a mutual friend. Ana’s cousin Hani married my closest friend at the time, and I was invited to the wedding in Egypt, and that’s when I met her a second time. That’s when things really got rolling, at least.”

“What was the first time?”

“The first was when I’d visited this friend, Dawud, to help him with a project he was working on a few years earlier. See, originally I’d gone to school for Mechanics, and he was there at school with me. Over spring break we worked on that project together, and I met his then-boyfriend Hani, as well as his visiting cousin, Ana, of course. We didn’t talk much at all, but I was enraptured with her. She’s still the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.” Adam put his hands over his heart and leaned back in his chair for effect, “Hell of a coincidence, innit?”

Jesse grinned and agreed with him. The conversation ended there again with the two of them leaving to their respective rooms, and with the back porch light being shut off. The young man fell back into bed with ease, and for once, he was at peace.


	7. Fog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my opinion this chapter is actually ENTIRELY skippable. So if you really wanna see the plot move forward, just skip this. It is short, though. Watch while I try to be deep. 
> 
> WARNINGS: death mention, swearing

Everything is hazy. He can barely move, can barely see. A shitton of fog clouds his vision but he can tell he’s in a forest of some sort. Beneath his feet is green moss, a lot of it: everywhere else is trees, also covered in moss, but he can’t see too far ahead. It’s like his feet are anchored to the ground there.

“You saw coyote, yeah?” says a man in front of him. He didn’t realize he was there. Probably the damn fog. 

The man in question is familiar, and he knows him, and at the same time, he doesn’t remember. He’s wearing a cream-colored Stetson, kneeling in front of him some feet away and facing the opposite direction. He seems to be inspecting something.

“Yeah,” replies Jesse, remembering the coyote he saw on the road the day earlier, though he thinks it of no importance. The fog is dampening his clothes, and the air is so humid he almost wants to cough.  
“Ah, that’s no good,” says the man, rising, “that’s no good. Turn back when you see Coyote, he’s bad news. He’s got a messed up sense of humor.” the man laughs but doesn’t turn around. Jesse hadn’t noticed it before, but there were sounds of frogs, and now they’d all stopped chirping. It was unsettling.

“Where’s your dad?” asks the man. Jesse twists his heel in the ground, smushing the frilly moss, “rotting in the ground somewhere,” he replied bitterly. Hasn’t seen his dad since he was seven. Doesn’t even know where he’s buried. The man turns around and laughs again, agreeing with him and giving a simple ‘yes’ as a reply. 

“Dad-” says Jesse, the realization hits him hard and empties his chest. He really does look like him. Or at least, he thinks that’s his father, but he can’t be sure. Memory got messed up pretty good over the years.

Whoever he is, the man sighs and looks sadly to him. There’s that ‘concerned’ look again.  
“Don’t go.”  
“Don’t go where?” asks Jesse, confused now. Fear intermingles with his confusion and suddenly he’s cold, very cold. The man brings a stray hair from Jesse’s face and smiles sadly, but Jesse can’t bring himself to smile back. Thousands of questions he wants to ask him start flooding his head before any of them can articulate as words in his mouth, and he begins to realize this is a dream.  
“You’re a good boy,” says his father, “I’m proud of you.”

Jesse was sure he was crying, though he felt no tears. He watched as the man took off the Stetson, glancing at it a moment before chuckling and setting it on his son’s head.  
“It always looked better on you anyways,” he says, “Take care of it for me?”  
“I already have this,” says Jesse, and he does. Though he never hardly wears it anymore, he’s had the thing since forever. Realization hits again and he’s suddenly filled with anger once he remembers that he lost it at a police station: cops took it and never gave it back. That was a little while before Gabe picked him up, if he remembered correctly.

Before he can express this anger to his father, he looks around again and realizes he’s alone in the fog. He watches his breath turn into a cloud of the white mist; his eye catches a blinding yellow light to his right, and through the trees and fog he can see the sun. It’s morning.


	8. Thunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright this is the last domestic chapter, I promise. But!! This isn't the end! This isn't the last chapter of this fanfic, it's still ongoing, but you'll see, I still have more for the plot. I'm sorry this build up is so slow nfuefnwe. I hope you're all enjoying this, and a blessed Ramadan to anyone who is participating btw! Onward!!
> 
> WARNINGS: descriptions of food

Light came into the room as a reddish tone as usual, though this morning it was an unpleasant surprise to Jesse as he still lay in his bed. He must have laid there for at least thirty minutes before decidedly rising and throwing the covers away, and the cold stinging his skin and sending goosebumps throughout his body. He might have hoped to sleep a bit longer, but the irritating light ( _ And extra bright, it seemed _ ) held fast to his eyelids and kept him awake. So get up he must. Might as well, he thought.

 

Jesse lazily trudged into the kitchen and found a seat at the table, where he was met by Adam, and was greeted by him cheerfully again,

“Mornin’ Jesse!”

“Good morning, sir.”

“You drink coffee? Want some?”

“Yes, please.”

 

Too drowsy to pay much attention to his surroundings, Jesse was awoken from a short nap he didn’t know he had taken once Adam had set his coffee cup in front of him. Shortly after thanking him, Jesse pulled the cup to his lips and took a few sips without any accompaniment of sugar or cream until he’d caught Adam’s amused facial expression. Jesse studied him and his surroundings a moment in an attempt to become more aware and wake up: Adam had his long hair pulled back into a low ponytail today, and he wore a black shirt with bold white letters reading “Custer had it coming”. The light being emitted from behind Adam made him look something like Jesus in the last supper painting. 

“I like yer shirt.” said Jesse, deciding to comment on it. Adam tugged at his collar to show more of it and nodded,

“Oh yeah? I got a ton of these. I got the real cheesy blue wolf shirts too.”

“Ever sick…” Jesse said playfully. That made Adam laugh, and he released a loud ‘Wah!’ before full heartedly chortling. Adam’s laugh was good natured, breathy, and high pitched, it sounded almost more like a cough, but it was rather infectious. Just as the bitterness of the coffee began to settle and register taste in Jesse’s mouth, Adam recovered and spoke again,

“I’ll get you one, if you like. A store online sells lots like this.”

“That’d be cool. But I can buy it myself, you don’t gotta do that.”

“You want some cream? You look like you just ate the world’s sourest grape.”

“Yes, please.”

 

Just as Adam was pushing the tray of cream and sugar to Jesse, he caught the young man off guard by a comment he had to say twice due to Jesse’s still apparent drowsiness,

“I thought you said you didn’t speak Indian,”

“I don’t.”

“You did last night,” Adam insisted. Jesse made a face, his nose scrunching up into obvious confusion. Adam shook his head, ready to explain,

“I mean, you did earlier this morning, rather. I heard some talking coming from your room, and I thought maybe Fareeha had gone to bother you. I didn’t want her waking you up since we were up so late, so I went to check up on you. But it was just you talking in your sleep.”

 

Jesse’s expression neutralizes some, but he’s nevertheless even moreso confused. Jesse McCree doesn’t talk in his sleep. In fact,  he’s a pretty solid sleeper. Doesn’t move much, and he sometimes snores sure, but he doesn’t talk. There was one instance where Gabe woke him up after sleeping in for his training and found him mumbling in Spanish during a nightmare, but even that was a strange occasion. And Jesse McCree doesn’t speak Dine besides a  _ (very likely, he supposed, not that he had any personal reference) _ wrongly pronounced ‘ _ Yá'át'ééh’  _ and a few other disembodied words here and there, and he most definitely didn’t speak any of the  _ rarámuri _  language. Jesse McCree doesn’t speak Indian.

 

He looked at Adam again, distracted from properly preparing his coffee, and gave him a face as to ask him if he was lying or not. Adam didn’t look terribly serious so much as impressed or even just as confused as he was, but it spoke enough to say that he wasn’t screwing with him.

“Did I really?”

“You did!” he confirmed, “That didn’t sound like Spanish. But then again, what do I know? I tried to wake you at first, but you didn’t budge. Thought maybe you were having a nightmare. Did you? You did stop after a while.” Jesse shook his head, “I don’t think so.” he replied finally; Adam added another word of ‘maybe it was gibberish’, as a way of ending the strange conversation, and the two left the subject alone, though in confusion. After some time of drinking himself awake in his properly made coffee, it was brought to Jesse’s attention that Fareeha wasn’t present with them, and so asked Adam where she was. Adam pointed to the direction of the back door, just the front of him, with his lips, 

“She’s outside in the bush, playing with her cousin. She’s visiting.”

“Cousin?”

“My sister’s daughter,” said Adam. Jesse then remembered that Adam had mentioned having an older half-sister, who previously shared the house with him before she’d moved to Vancouver and had once resided in what was now Fareeha’s room. 

“She must be my cousin too, then.” joked Jesse. Adam laughed,

“Why don’t you go out and meet them? This is your last day after all.”

 

The last day. Of course, how could he forget? He’d have to leave very early the next morning in order to properly meet with Gabe and get to the mission location as promised. He of course was excited by this, but it had also sent a pang into his chest at the thought of leaving, though he didn’t want to speculate so much as to why that was. Whatever the reason, Jesse ignored it and nodded in agreement to Adam’s suggestion. Within a short span of time, he’d finished his coffee and cleaned up enough to meet Fareeha’s cousin he’d been told was named Serena.

 

By Adam’s directions, he was to go to the backyard and follow a worn trail into between the trees, and he’d done so until he came across a small clearing. He found the girls lightly jumping on an aged vehicle, rusted and from an earlier age, it seemed. The twin tracks he followed into the clearing made it evident that this vehicle had made the path. 

 

Behind them was a magnificent treehouse supported by two cedar trees. Fareeha waved to him enthusiastically, though her cousin gave a small wave before quietly disappearing up into the treehouse and coaxing her cousin to join her. 

“She’s shy,” Fareeha whispered, and happily followed through with Serena’s request for accompaniment. Serena peeked her head from the window as Fareeha made her way up, and her cheeks turned up in friendliness at Jesse, but her eyes still spoke of her obvious shyness. She had full cheeks and deeply indented dimples much like her uncle, and her curly hair was tied back into a ponytail. She bore a very slight resemblance to Fareeha, as evident of their being related.

 

Jesse knew better than to pester someone who might’ve been too anxious to speak to him in the first place, and so he took a moment to breathe in the fresh air and admire his surroundings. It really was a beautiful place: the trees that stood overhead them were bigger than he’d ever seen and gave a lovely dark green hue to the area. As if to test his senses in how truly enormous they were, Jesse made a point to wrap his arms around one. He was a tall, sturdy young man to be sure, but his arms barely reached around his chosen trunk halfway. The scent of pine made him sigh, and he ignored the sticky sap clinging to his shirt. Just as he let go of the tree, he was sure he’d heard Fareeha teasingly yell  _ ‘treehugger! _ ’ from the housetop. 

 

Jesse may have left the two alone from there, but they seemingly wished him to stay, as they continuously threw a number of pinecones in his direction to keep him from leaving, and giggled and hid back into their fort every time he acknowledged them. It became a game with the three of them.

 

Eventually, though, the two girls made the decision to join Jesse on the ground. That is, until they’d all decided upon lounging on the hood of the lightly rusted car and began a friendly conversation. Fareeha did most of the talking, while Serena quietly listened. Because of their contrasting personalities, it was difficult to believe that Serena and Fareeha were friends at all. Nevertheless, the two seemed extremely close.

“We should go for a walk by the rocks, or on Spirit Lake trail- you’d like it there. It’s really pretty.”

“How long is the walk?”

“Depends on how fast you go, you slow poke.”

“I’m serious.” Jesse gave a half sarcastic look to Fareeha. She was referring to a number of times she’d beat him for races in training, and not necessarily all of them were times that he let her win. She was only teasing him, of course.

“Alright alright, it’s about two hours.”

“I’d rather go to the rocks then.”

“I’ll ask my dad.”

 

With that, Fareeha briefly left the scene, leaving the two of her friends alone. “So you’re a mixed native?” asked Serena suddenly, almost startling him. This was strange considering how gentle her voice was. Jesse meant to leave off bothering young Serena so as to not make her uncomfortable, but he took some gladness in the fact that Fareeha’s cousin had become somewhat comfortable enough with him to speak. Jesse nodded, tipping an invisible hat in politeness,

“Yes ma’am,” he replied. Saying this truthfully didn’t give him the same sting of insecurity as it had before, and somehow he felt more sure of himself to say this. Serena’s dimples appeared in her cheeks as she smiled again, and her back straightened some,

“Me too. All of us are, I guess.”

“We should have jackets.” Serena giggled at that. Fareeha then emerged quickly from the trees, her arms swinging as she ran, “Dad says we can go! But you gotta drive.” Jesse’s eyes widened, “For real? Not even…”

“ _ Na’ _ , for real! I’m not lying.”

 

That was good enough for him. Fareeha had come up behind Jesse and hooked her arms around his neck, expecting a piggyback ride. He obliged and stood upon the ground again, swaying Fareeha on his back. He turned to Serena again and smiled, “So, you ready to go on a little adventure?”

Serena nodded. Jesse spent half of the short trip carrying Fareeha on his back and racing her cousin, but became tired. Fareeha hopped off only to be replaced by a playful Serena, now much more comfortable with the young man, it seemed. Despite his tiredness, he allowed the young girl to mount his back and carried her the rest of the way. 

 

They were met by Adam, who tossed a pair of keys to Jesse which didn’t belong to the car they thought they’d be traveling in. Jesse made it a point to comment on this,

“Who’s are these? Aren’t I taking your car?”

“You are, but not the one in the front yard. Take the one in the back.”

“That still works?” 

Jesse turned around to face the two younger girls he’d seen playing and jumping on it, when he had assumed it was beyond repair and served as a playground. The young girls cheekily grinned at him, as if they were completely innocent in the matter. He wasn’t angry of course, and he’d gone on it too, but he did feel a pang of guilt for a moment. He supposed it was the instinct of Native children to play on cars, and laughed at the thought.

 

Fareeha quickly pulled Jesse away and smiled at her father, noisily bidding him a farewell to drown out his asking if they’d gone to play on his old vehicle. Again.

 

They made it to the car quickly enough again and Jesse scanned it briefly but found no dents or scratches. Fareeha gave her driver directions as to where to go, and luckily it was a short ride. Serena by this time had worked up the courage to talk some more and became more enthusiastic each time she spoke to Jesse. She had a love of cheap humor and told him terrible puns the whole way, earning a groan followed by a laugh from him. Fareeha by this time must have grown used to all her cousins jokes, as she did nothing but roll her eyes and grin before she told every joke.

 

Jesse was able to find a place to park on the side of the road, as the area of ‘the rocks’ wasn’t a formal place, but a location by the beach. The rocks, as Jesse realized, referred to a number of stones and boulders in varying shapes that led up to the water. A number of them were very large, while the others were minuscule. The girls went off to hop on and off varying rocks, but Jesse decidedly stood there to appreciate the view. He was doing that more often it seemed, and he supposed he might as well: it was his last day there, after all.

 

The sun was out this day, and there were hardly any clouds, but there seemed to be a very thin layer of mist out in the distance. The trees behind them cast a lovely gradient of green and brown, extending all throughout the island. The water ahead seemed to be extra blue from the reflection of the sky, and though it wasn’t completely calm today, it sent in delightful splashes of foam and bubbles against the rocks. Even the ground which otherwise may have been grey was covered and speckled with now-greening moss. 

 

His reverie was interrupted when his young companions rushed to his side, eager to show him the number of starfish they’d picked out among the rocks.

“They’re bat starfish!” explained Serena, holding two in her cupped hands. They were surprisingly colorful, and the two Serena held were fidgeting and mingling with their extended limbs. “They’re fighting,” Serena giggled. Jesse made sure to snap a picture of the starfish as well as the three of them, and the scene. He sent a selfie of the three of them to Gabe before the starfish were put safely back into the water, and he was tugged away to see the prized balancing rock at the beach. 

 

The thing was huge: taller than him, even. They admired its enormity, touching its surface a bit and comparing their heights to varying points of the rock. 

“Is this a special rock?” asked Jesse. Meaning, should they be fiddling around on it? He’d hate to be rude in such a way when he understood how both cultures of her family were very important to Fareeha. Both girls shrugged, “I don’t know,” said Fareeha. That was odd to hear: something she  _ didn’t  _ know. Serena confirmed this by shrugging again, “Probably. But whatever was so special about it is kinda gone now. Nobody remembers.”

“I don’t know,” said Fareeha again, “I think people used to come here to pray, but... I don’t know”. She must’ve felt how he did earlier when he was asked if he knew any Dine: that horrid ‘I don’t know’ to follow. Jesse gave an understanding nod and the three left the subject alone. 

 

They spent much of their time combing out the beach, putting starfish back where they belonged and skipping rocks into the water for fun. Despite their fun, they left once a light rain had begun to trickle down on them. Once they’d arrived home again, Adam insisted on taking Serena back to her mother: she’d become worried, he said.

 

Jesse immediately set to work in packing his things and preparing to leave for the next morning. His preparations only stopped once he’d been called to eat his final dinner with his hosts, and he’d caught a familiar whiff of the food in the air.

 

The smell was unmistakable, and he allowed the scent of it to lure him from the room, and out into kitchen as he’d been asked. He cut into the short route in the roundabout hallway, greeted by Adam grinning at him and filling a bowl of soup by the stove. Next, to the pot in a tray, it was just as he thought: bannock.

 

It was something of a staple during his childhood, though frybread was more commonly made, and he’d preferred it. Bannock was Frybread’s ‘healthier’, less greasy first cousin. He distinctly remembered another version of it more commonly eaten by other Dine at Church Rock, though in a sense it was the same. It was enough to leave him nostalgic, but strangely not homesick this time. That was refreshing.

 

Nobody dished up for him this time. Filling his own bowl with soup and grabbing two squares of bannock on a sheet of paper towel almost made him feel guilty. Living under the strict grip of Deadlock for so long made him anxious and guilty about everything he didn’t have to work or give up something for. Just receiving things out of kindness sometimes still felt foreign to him. Regardless, he decided that not taking anything would be rude, and he  _ was _ hungry again. 

 

He set his bowl and bannock in the chair opposite to where he had sat his first evening there, with Adam in his old seat and Fareeha to his left. They sat in silence again, and there were only the sounds of their metal spoons scraping the bottom of the bowls, but by no means was it an awkward silence. 

“You know,” said Jesse, breaking the silence, “last time I had bannock like this, I was in Rocky Boy, Montana.”

“Oh?” replied Adam, scooping up another bit of soup. His face had suggested interest in the matter, as Montana was quite a ways away. Jesse had just dipped his bannock into his soup and spotted Fareeha spreading what looked to be a type of grease or butter from a jar onto her own. He took a bite and finished it before going on:

“Mhm. It was when my boyfriend had dragged me to a pow-wow there, and we bought it off of some Cree people. It’s different somehow.”

 

Adam nodded and grasped the same jar from Fareeha, opening it while continuing to speak, 

“They must’ve been Canadian. I’ve had American frybread and bannock to know there’s a subtle difference.”

 

The conversation might’ve ended there, but Fareeha seemed more interested in the fact that Jesse had confessed to having a boyfriend at some point. She looked at him with wide eyes as soon as he had said it, but her cheeks were full of food, and so she’d waited for her father to finish speaking before doing so herself. Her face resembled the baby photo Jesse had teased her about the day before, and he laughed a little at that.

“You have a  _ boyfriend _ ?” she exclaimed. Jesse sent her sarcastic look,

“What? I’m seventeen, is it really that surprising I had a boyfriend?”

“I’m surprised you never said anything about him!”

“Fareeha-” Adam warned. Jesse stuffed the rest of his first bannock into his mouth so any and all words would be trapped in his mouth, safeguarded by a piece of Indian bread.  When he’d worked up to finishing that bite, he ended the matter of Fareeha’s irritating curiosity by announcing that he and that previous partner were no longer together anyway and that it didn’t matter. He didn’t look up to either of his hosts, but sure enough, he’d silenced them, and they said nothing further. It still stung a little. Despite this, the subject was changed, and they ate while chatting pleasantly. 

 

Later that evening, when the thundering had become more frequent and the clouds had overtaken the sky, darkening it, something then overcame Jesse: It was a habit picked up by instruction of his father and later step-mother as a child, and he always felt a sort of need to sit whenever there was thunder to be heard in the rain, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. Couldn’t remember. Whatever it was, he followed through; finding a space in front of the couch, Jesse sat on the floor quietly, continuing to listen. Fareeha approached him, offering a bowl of what appeared to be ice cream. She made a face,

“What are you doing?”

“Listening to the thunder,” said he, taking the bowl and nodding in thanks. This ice cream looked different, as it had more of a foamy consistency and was lightly tinted pink. Fareeha had taken it upon herself to add half a banana to the bowl, though he didn’t ask for any. When Jesse raised his head in suspicion, she put a spoonful into her mouth, as if to prove it was indeed tasty, and explained, 

“It’s  _ ḵahl tl'inu.  _ Indian ice cream. Made from soapberries.” 

 

Though Fareeha found it strange her companion was sitting on the floor and not the couch, she sat next to him and continued to eat. Jesse hesitantly tasted the ice cream, and his taste buds were met with a strange mix of sweet and bitter taste. It wasn’t  _ bad _ necessarily, but he knew it’d take some getting used to. He looked to Fareeha, who was nearly halfway done, and obviously already accustomed to the taste. She pointed to his bowl with her lips, “Eat it with the banana. It’ll taste better.” 

 

Jesse did as she asked, and she was right. She finished her bowl much sooner before he, although their bowls became empty and void of the foamy treat after a time. Fareeha quietly took Jesse’s bowl from his side as well as her own and took them to the sink before wishing him a goodnight. The young man found himself in his room again, his things all ready to leave for the next morning, and he lying on his back listening to the lovely sounds outside. The rain continued to pour, but the thunder was gone. 


	9. The way back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Moly it's been 900 years!! Sorry for the wait, but here it is. Thanks for all the support!
> 
> Warnings: Smoking

Jesse tried to move as quietly and as quickly as he could: the alarm he’d set for himself was too modest for sound and didn’t quite wake him up as early as he’d hoped. He checked his phone again as though he hadn’t just done so nearly 20 seconds ago, and saw the minute digit of the time move up one. 4:34 AM. He’d hoped to wake up properly at 4:00, but he’d immediately gone right back to sleep in his drowsiness.

 

The taxi had already left him, and so now he’d called another and would have to wait another 15 minutes at least for it to arrive. The operator seemed tart in their tone of voice, obviously irritated with him sleeping through his taxi call right after he’d called the first one nearly half an hour ago. 

 

Eyes puffy and red, and his bag slung over his shoulder, Jesse quickly and quietly made his way out the door, being sure to lock it behind himself out of courtesy. He sat on a free chair sitting just outside the house, waiting for his taxi. In the dark sunrise, he fumbled for a new lighter Adam had given him, and stuffed a cigarette into his mouth, lighting it. Everything was a deep blue, even the trees: a light fog settled over everything again, and looked like something out of a painting. He sat there and closed his eyes a moment, feeling sleepy but content. Gabe had sent an early text message that morning, explaining that he could board a specialized Overwatch plane craft and be at the next mission place more quickly once he reached sandspit airport. 

 

Jesse opened his eyes once he’d caught a disturbance some meters ahead, and believed it to be the taxi, but there was nothing. He only saw blue and bluer. The young man blinked slowly, thinking it might wake him some, and thought perhaps he was only imagining things. He realized he wasn’t when he heard the rustling of the bush, and understood that it was the sound of footsteps crackling over dead grass and pine needles. No fear came from him however, he was too damn tired for that- that and it was just an animal. Or a person walking on all fours, he guessed.

 

He remained completely still and quiet, determined to believe that the animal would just up and leave eventually if he didn’t bother it. It didn’t however, and it quickly came from its hiding spot among the bush and trees quickly and swiftly. A coyote. Too small to be a wolf, and perhaps too big to be a dog. 

 

It glanced at Jesse a good few seconds, and the two stared good and long at each other. Jesse puffed his smoke at him, greeting the little guest with a ‘ _ hmph _ ’. He thought the bugger looked very cool with its eyes catching the light. The thing skittered off back into the trees almost immediately, getting spooked at the door quickly being opened behind the young man. Jesse’s body became so cold from the sudden noise he felt his soul might’ve jumped out of him. He turned to find Fareeha, still in her pajamas and an oversized sweater covering her torso. 

 

She closed the door behind her and scraped another chair from inside to Jesse’s right and sat in it. Little Fareeha had no socks on, and she nestled the rest of her body under the cover of the sweater, forming a ball. Jesse reluctantly doused the cigarette while Fareeha prepared for a scolding of how she shouldn’t be out of bed:

“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked sternly. The tone of his voice came out much more serious than he had intended, but he was too sleepy to regulate his monotone speech. He figured that if he didn’t scold her now, Adam certainly would, and he didn’t want any trouble for her.

 

Fareeha dug the lower half of her face into her knees, only exposing her eyes, which didn’t meet her friend’s gaze. She didn’t say anything. Her silence lasted long enough to make Jesse suspicious; he studied her for a long while, but couldn’t pick up exactly what she was feeling by any means, even when her dark, beady eyes finally came up to look at him a moment. Without any prompting, Jesse picked up his chair by the arms and pulled it closer to Fareeha’s. The sound of the chair’s feet scraping against the ground echoed in the distance as he did so, bringing even more attention to her silence. 

 

He decided to lighten the mood some, though in an odd way: he leaned in close, staring at her a moment until he’d caught her gaze and made a misconstrued face at her, in an attempt to make her laugh. She didn’t. In fact, she scowled. He backed away, turning his head away a moment before quickly and dramatically giving the most bizarre face he could muster and topping it all off with a mouth-produced fart noise.

 

Fareeha was briefly charmed, and for half a second, her teeth were bared in a smile before she quickly pursed her lips and frowned again: 

“Stop it,” she demanded.

“Stop what?”

“Making faces at me!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jesse’s reply came out in a funny voice, deep and humorous. He could tell that for a moment, she was struggling to hold back her giggles, but then that very serious expression spread across her face again, and he knew she meant business. He kept his distance now and leaned back into his seat. He supposed that if she had something important to tell him, she’d do it. But for the moment he couldn’t figure out why the usually playful Fareeha was so stiff. Luckily enough, she did express what was troubling her:

“I had a bad dream about you,” she confessed. Jesse quickly turned his head to her,

“Oh?”

“You ran away. You left Overwatch.”

 

The young man wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. He might’ve thought about running away during his first few days there, but not now. Had nowhere to go. Didn’t have much of a home with Deadlock other than a roof over his head, and that was less than what he had now, he knew that much. 

“I’d be mad if you left.”

“I won’t run away. But I have to go for now. For a job,” he reassured. Fareeha’s eyes raised to him, hopeful now. “It’d be boring without you,” said the little one. He felt the heaviness in his chest leave, and smiled lightly to her, “Aw shucks, kiddo,” he replied, touched. She did her best to return his smile but ended up yawning instead. Any reply that might’ve come after that was halted a moment, as they both spotted the headlights of the taxi approaching in the distance. The dark made it easier to spot out through the trees,

“Guess you won’t have to visit us anymore,” Fareeha said suddenly. That put a small pang back into Jesse’s chest, but he ignored it. “Guess not,” he replied dryly. He quickly decided to make up for this by giving her a thank-you: to be honest, he felt sad to be leaving Skidegate.  He had more fun than he’d realized, and it was unfortunate he was only really enjoying his short visit the most towards the end of it.

“Hey uh, thanks for having me,” he said finally. Fareeha smiled,

“Thanks for staying. I had fun.”

“Me too.” Jesse agreed, feeling more and more disappointed at having to leave by the looks of the taxi lights approaching down the long driveway. He quickly turned to her again, 

“Y’ know, I haven’t really been close to too many natives before. Not like me. Not like this.” said Jesse: he refrained from mentioning that for a long while, friendships were a tricky thing, to begin with, judging by his past run-ins with the law. He used to be surprised that the young girl ever wanted to be friends with him at all, but he didn’t think of that now that they were truly friends.

 

“We’re close?” asked Fareeha: despite her choice of words, her expression spoke a look of tender surprise and affection. It was like she was waiting for him to consider her a close friend for ages, and maybe she was, he thought. Jesse laughed, 

“Well,  _ now  _ we are. I jus’ never got to hang around other people like me, y’know? Like, like…”

 

He stopped there: despite how determined he was to express what he was feeling at the moment, he just couldn’t. Darn mouth couldn’t keep up with his brain sometimes. His hand made a gripping motion as if he were trying to grasp the right words, but he found none. Fareeha shrugged, her little brown face looking all intelligent again. She didn’t say anything, but her face and that little shared moment between them finalized the conversation. They smiled sadly at each other once the taxi pulled in the driveway, blinding them. Fareeha quickly jumped from her seat as soon as Jesse did, and flung her arms around him. Jesse made no hesitation to hug her back.

 

“I’ll see you in a few weeks then?” she asked; Jesse hoisted his luggage over his shoulder, smiling at her. “Sure will,” he said finally. Fareeha watched the vehicle pull away: her toes curled up from the bite of the early morning cold, and she shivered in place while a trail of dust and frost curled slowly ahead, taking her friend with it.

 

~

 

Jesse ventured back and onto the ferry alone, feeling rather lonesome. He'd become used to Fareeha being next to him, and cheerfully filling the empty silence. Her talk may have been irritating at times, but he'd grown to be fond of it. 

 

The Ferry ride was as before, but once he'd come to the airport, he found a friendly grin single him out from a mile away. Gabriel. 

 

Gabriel’s hand was extended to the younger man, and although he must've only expected a friendly shake in greeting, Jesse had done so only to bring him in for a full-on hug, not initially realizing he'd done it. He could feel Gabe's shoulders tense, hesitant and surprised at first, but the hug was returned and finalized with a firm pat on Jesse’s back.

 

“You alright?” said Gabriel: his expression was a look of mixed concern and friendliness. Jesse felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment: he'd gotten so comfortable with being affectionate and even brotherly to Fareeha that it showed up almost naturally now. A few months back, and he might’ve thought about swatting somebody’s hand away had they even tried to put a chummy arm on his shoulder. He supposed the change wasn’t bad at all,  but it felt odd how quickly he’d become softer, and more vulnerable. 

 

The young man’s knuckles paled from gripping his luggage tighter in his fist, and his lips formed into a forced, thin smile, “I'm alright.” The morning had made him grumpy, and that was all, but he didn't want to complain. 

 

Gabriel nodded, not inclined to force him into speaking anymore. “Then let’s go.”

 

He led him away from the waiting area of the airport to a closed off boarding section, presumably so their aircraft was more private. They entered the plane quickly and quietly enough, but while Jesse had already made himself comfortable, Gabe made no movement so as to say that he was going to take a seat just yet.

 

“I have something for you,” he called from ahead; the man had made his way up to near where the cockpit was, but by the sounds of it stopped to open an upper closet to where small cargo was meant to be. Jesse couldn’t immediately see what Gabriel was doing because of another seat’s headrest in front of him, and even if he was exhausted from lack of sleep, he couldn’t have been more awake than the moment he’d caught sight of what Gabriel held out in front of him. 

 

The cream color of the hat was unmistakable and was undeniably the one that he’d lost back in New Mexico. It was his hat- his dad’s hat. The thing was placed in his lap since apparently, Jesse had forgotten how to use his hands in pure awe of seeing it again: he gently felt along the outer rim, appreciating the worn edges and familiar texture. When he’d finally tore his gaze from it, he looked up to see Gabe getting in the chair next to him, grinning.

 

“Where’d you get this?”

“Back in New Mexico, where I found you. You always talked about this thing, so I thought I’d grab it for you.”

 

His vision blurred, and his jaw hurt from how hard he had clenched his teeth together. Jesse’s eyes returned to the hat, refusing to let Gabe see him cry if he cried at all. Jesse never made a sound when he did, and all he had to do was hide his face. The years he spent with Deadlock had trained him to do so. 

 

But despite this, no tears came, and his vision cleared up after some moments. He rubbed whatever wetness had crept at the edges of his eyelids under the guise that he was only tired, though he was. Gabe didn’t say anything and buckled himself in next to him. Jesse guessed that he was staying silent so as to spare him from any more embarrassment, and for this, he couldn’t have been more grateful. 

 

Jesse carefully placed the hat on his head, feeling more like himself again. With that settled between them, and Gabriel reiterated their mission and the plans of what was to happen next:

 

“There’s a recently decommissioned Omnium located in Washington, and the fusion cores have been deactivated already, but there have been reports of activity in the area. Our job is to escort a vehicle of the deactivated fusion cores and confiscate them without any trouble, or as little of it as we can afford.”

 

Gabriel swiftly pulled up a tablet from the side pocket of his plane seat and gave Jesse a view of it, the image of a map appearing on the screen. Gabe’s finger hovered over a marked location on the map depicting where they were headed. Jesse’s eyes wandered to the surrounding area that the Omnium happened to be located in: it was smack-dab in the middle of nowhere, west of Tacoma and wedged in the southern part of a National Forest. Jesse’s eyes furrowed,

 

“Odd place for a factory. Omniums are usually located in cities, aren’t they?”

 

Gabriel nodded, “Many are. Cities were ideal for easy access to things like maintenance or repair. But that’s why we’re going to check this one out- any movement in this supposedly deactivated area is suspicious and possibly dangerous.”

 

He didn’t need to say anything more. As the plane had begun to move, Jesse’s partner proceeded to fiddle with the tablet, searching for the app that contained the exact plans for what they should do in greater detail. The young man listened intently once everything had been explained, and asked questions he already knew the answer to just to be sure he understood everything. Despite his tiredness, he went on to re-explain what had been told to him in impressive detail, earning a nod of approval from Gabe. 

 

Gabriel had asked him if he was tired after hearing him yawn loudly: Jesse rubbed his eye and sarcastically replied with a ‘no’, making his friend laugh:

 

“You can sleep. We’ve got a while before we get to Washington. And you’ve got Physics homework after all this is over.”

 

A groan came from the young man, unamused by the reminder that he’d skipped out on homeschooling for this mission, and would resume it afterward. Before shoving the hat over his eyelids and positioning himself into a comfortable recline, Jesse turned to his friend and Mentor,

“Hey, Gabe?”

“Mmm?”

“Thanks,” said Jesse, smiling a little this time, “for everything.”

 

Gabriel’s lips turned upward and regarded his thanks with a sincere nod. There was that look again: the sincerity was reminiscent to the face Adam had often made to his daughter whenever she was gushing about something she was interested in. Something in it was safe and familiar. 

 

Jesse’s head turned to the unclosed window, and he could see a number of clouds rapidly disappear under the wing diagonally as they proceeded to go higher in the air. He expected to see the dazzling blue again but instead was greeted by a beam of sunlight and a blazing sky of reds and oranges overhead the gray. He watched the magnificent view for only a few seconds before closing his eyes and falling asleep.


	10. Struggle (Jesse)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Adele voice* Hello, it's me.
> 
> I'm sorry updating is taking so long but I'm in school again so you know how it is. This chapter is a bit more action-oriented and wild than what I've written so far, and if you like that yay! But, if you feel you're not up for an action scene today, then feel free to skip this chapter onto chapter 11. It's nothing too crazy, but if you're sensitive to such content in the warnings I suggest skipping this, just to be safe. I almost contemplated not adding in this chapter, but you know what, I've made a BUNCH of re-writes and re-edits to this scene, and I feel like I've hyped up Jesse's want for his mission too much not to include this scene. I don't think I'm cut out for writing action scenes, but I did my darndest!! Thanks to everyone who keeps reading this, omg, I appreciate it. Also a special thanks to my friend Manny who beta-d this and gave me advice for writing!! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
> 
> WARNINGS: Descriptions of injury/minor burns, medical treatment of said injuries, violence, guns, fainting, death (if you count robots 'dying').

They arrived in Washington at the time estimated, but the hour and a half long drive made their plan less on the dot. Gabriel didn’t seem to mind, even if he did get serious about missions. Jesse made it a point not to seem too excited about the whole thing, but a part of him couldn’t help it once he was told to gear up just before exiting their plane-craft. His hands moved with less precision, and he fumbled with his bulletproof vest at the thought of finally being able to do something. The idea of danger put nervousness in him too, to be sure, but he decided to trick himself into believing he was excited, and nothing more: _you’re used to this_ , he thought.

 

Entering the forest was possibly the most challenging, and yet the most comforting thing: being near the coast in Washington was like the geography in Skidegate, and it almost felt like the young man never left. However, this also proved difficult to move through with a truck that was very clearly not meant for trekking through the woods and had gotten stuck more than once. At length, he and Gabe left their vehicle only to be joined with a larger crew of Overwatch agents riding a slightly smaller vehicle, bearing some resemblance to a military tank, and undoubtedly the vehicle that would be carrying their cargo.

 

“That’s a shame,” said Jesse, to nobody. Observing the deep indented tracks of the tires, he realized that they would make an eyesore of a mess both going in and coming out of the forest. Gabriel nodded, “We would’ve used a hover vehicle, but we decided against it for environmental concerns. Grass and moss can grow over tracks.”

 

Their conversation was interrupted by another heavily geared agent coming towards them, gaining Gabriel’s undivided attention, “The rest are waiting at the cargo site,” they said, sounding slightly out of breath, “we’ll have to continue on foot beside the delivery motor. The trees are too thick for all of the vehicles to pass through.”

 

Jesse said nothing, and Gabriel nodded his approval. The vehicle ahead led the way, and the small army of a crew began to trek across the dense forest. Jesse wasted no time in looking about him, admiring the scenery. He decided to snap a photo and quickly retrieved his phone from his pocket, and began taking photos he thought looked best: rushing up ahead and capturing the magnificence of a certain tree, struggling to steady his camera for the sake of immortalizing a brilliantly colored bird on a branch, or fumbling down a hill to ensnare the loveliness of a small creek. There was no end to what he thought possible to photograph. Had he not done any of this, the trip would have been somewhat boring and long, but he entertained himself thusly.

 

“Looking to become a photographer?” said Gabe, as the two had finally walked next to each other again. Jesse shrugged, “I’m more into film and cinema, m’self,” moss lightly crunched beneath his shoes, slowing the walk, and he realized they were nearing their destination by sight of a large building in a clearing ahead. He looked to Gabriel and continued anyway, “Maybe someday I’ll make a movie or something. It’ll be a shitty western,” Jesse laughed, entirely joking, “You can be in it.”

 

“Oh?” a smile spread on Gabriel’s lips, earning a bigger smile from the young man. Members around them pretended not to notice their joking, as it was rare to see their commander joke on the job other than with Ana or Jack, but he knew they’d get a good teasing out of it later. Their joke only lasted a minute, and ended with Jesse earning a firm grip on his shoulder and playfully pushed away- that was his hint to prepare for business.

 

Their squadron began moving in, ready to retrieve their cargo. Jesse quickly scanned the Omnium ahead, realizing it wasn’t quite as big as he expected: he had seen two other factories before, and both were much larger than this one. Omniums were never what you would call ‘beautiful’, but this one seemed to have more exterior design in mind. If he hadn’t already known, he might not have guessed it was a factory at all, but instead maybe another working facility. Everything about this building was plain, and he tried to find something remarkable about it, but found nothing.

 

“It manufactured soldier units during the crisis,” called a deep voice. Their sudden interruption of his thoughts startled him some, and he realized that that certainly wasn’t Gabriel, and that they carried an accent immediately reminiscent of Adam’s. Jesse turned his head wildly until he spotted somebody to his right. They were just barely taller than he with a dark tawny skin tone and an undercut pulled neatly into a ponytail. Their tone of voice suggested friendliness, but their face couldn’t have looked more hard and serious. A badge on their breast read “Begay”.

 

Reyes ignored them briefly and moved ahead to speak presumably with other important squadron members. Begay moved ahead also, motioning Jesse to follow. The young man studied this new person with interest, studying them.

 

Every member within their team had dressed accordingly with protective gear, which was by no means ‘light’. Jesse himself sometimes struggled to move in certain positions because of the weight of it, and every so often would catch himself breathing heavily once the ground had become harsher to tread on.

 

But the stranger next to Jesse moved in such a way that suggested they weren’t affected by the heavy clothing at all, and not just in the way that Jesse sometimes pretended to be, doing so having the same effect as pretending not to be tired after climbing a flight of stairs. In fact, they had a solid build- one very similar to Gabriel’s. And Morrison’s. Now that he thought about it, he decided it wasn’t unsafe to assume this was a person of distinction. Then again, he knew nothing about this person.

 

However, it was worth noting that ‘Begay’ was a _very_ common surname among Dine’, and the sudden realization that he may not be the only Indigenous member came to his mind. Somehow that made him even more interested in this person- one could even say he was excited. Curiosity overtook him and he moved towards Begay gingerly, “Pardon, but if I might ask? Where’re you from?”

 

“Bitter Springs, Arizona.” replied they. The smile Begay shot towards Jesse caught him by surprise. Somehow the acne scars along with the grin made them even prettier. Jesse beamed, “Are you Navajo?”

 

Begay’s smile widened, “How could you tell?”

 

“I’m Dine m’self,” replied Jesse, confident having said it. Begay gave a nod of approval and this small gesture of earning comradery gave Jesse a sense reassurance he was accepted. Internally he reminded himself for a moment that acceptance must not always come from other people, but the gesture was validating. _You are native, and other people think so too_ , he thought. It still felt nice to think about, and he held onto that small bit of happiness as best he could.

 

His attention moved to ahead of him, suddenly remembering why he was there. Their crew up ahead seemed to have been halted, save for a few people cautiously searching the area, and others remaining in place. Jesse picked out his commander from the crowd ahead, and he caught him in his sights too. Just as he began to move towards him, Gabriel pointed a warning finger in his direction, ordering him to stay.

 

“Stay put where I told you Jesse,” said Gabriel through the comm, “we have a plan. My team is going to move in and-”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re gunna search the area. Got it. I won’t move.”

 

Jesse couldn’t quite make out Gabriel’s expression, but he was sure he was frowning for getting sass. No doubt his boss wanted him to remain in an area generally out of the way until he’d found an appropriate job for him. Disappointing too, to be on the far end of anything interesting. The communicator in his ear had been muted only for emergency calls or those directly from Gabriel, so he knew right from the get-go he wouldn’t be in for any interesting listening either.

 

A swarm of their squadron moved inwards tactfully, whilst others remained outside and secured the area. He could hear their chatter over the comm every so often, apparently, everything was going as planned. His attention span reverted to Begay, who had repeated the question of asking what clan he was from.

 

_Shit_ , thought Jesse, _what clan, what clan_? He’d always goaded himself to remember what clan his dear old dad had said he was from on his side, and he’d done the same for his stepmother, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember either of them. If he remembered the rules correctly, he belonged to his mother’s clan. He decided upon the answer of ‘Towering House’ clan, as he was the surest of it.

 

Begay began to work out a reply before they were cut off, a bright light coming from the area of the building and a boom loud enough that the two jumped in response. It happened so quickly, but Jesse was himself quick enough to grab Begay by the wrist and tug them to the safety and cover of a large tree trunk, big enough to just barely shield the two of them from the oncoming gunfire. Birds that were silent up until this point had fluttered away in fear overhead them, escaping the commotion.

 

“What the hell’s goin’ on?” yelled Jesse, hand already on his chosen weapon. Begay prepared their own weapon, their head stutteringly peering from the cover of the tree to scan the situation, “Could be anything,” they called back, practically muted by the roaring sounds. That didn’t answer his question, making him even more nervous than he was becoming. The weapons being used against them weren’t bullets, as Jesse observed, but a low-damage laser type of ammunition. He’d seen such things before used back with Deadlock, and the aqua blue flashes of light were unmistakable. It was enough to kill in the right doses to be sure, but one hit was only enough to hurt like a bitch and temporarily stun, working something like a taser gun.

 

Gabriel seemed to have read his mind as he announced this over the communicator, his voice startlingly calm and commanding when he addressed the teams into an order that they could retaliate properly.

 

Jesse’s own head peered from the trunk, spotting Gabe and two other agents wedged between a large omnic unit, presumably ‘dead’, and the cargo vehicle just in front of the building. The three were stuck in a vulnerable position, moved into the very end of a corner, and their efforts to move forward were fruitless as they had to spend their energy shooting _other_ omnic units as they mindlessly passed, targeting the rest of their squadron. Even Gabe, who was at the head of the lot, looked to be having an extremely hard time of it. More hostiles had come in groups at their sides, giving their team a challenge to not be surrounded. Jesse had never seen Gabriel struggle in such a way, and it set a panic into him.

 

“This wasn’t planned-” said Jesse. He raised his hand and fiddled with the communicator in his ear to try and access their commander. Begay snorted, “You think?”

 

“No, I mean, this wasn’t an ambush.”

                                    

“That’s correct,” said Gabe supportively. His voice was fuzzed through the comm, and the sounds of their struggle made it difficult to hear much of anything at all. But Reyes was still surprisingly composed as ever, (or so he sounded), and continued with his assessment: “Something must’ve triggered these things to come to life. They’re acting on coding alone, and are relying on a rapid-fire engine partially aimed towards movement.”

                                                 

Begay’s face twisted into a puzzled look, unsure whether to believe that assessment. “What’s your call, Commander Reyes?” they asked. A long silence passed before any reply was made, but their leader replied at length, calm and controlled:

 

“Have your team move in spread out, and come head on in a V formation. Do not, I repeat, do not fire in the direction of the factory, the fusion core inside may still be active. Use your formations to strike at the sides. Take cover as you go, and deploy the shields. Most of the hostiles are arriving from the front entrance if not the sides. I’ll have team C take care of the strays.”

 

Jesse blankly watched Begay nod and obey Reyes’s orders, switching the channel to inform the others what they’d been told to do through the comm. The youth scanned their surroundings as Begay returned to shooting down the units, realizing their armor was tough as hell. It was a pitiful sight ahead. The young man scanned the area again, trying to find a way to make use of himself, as there were no specific orders for him, and he was a part of Gabe’s team to begin with. Maybe he could even help him.

 

He discerned a perfect point to place himself and gain the advantage over their opponent from one end. The point he picked put was a fell pine log across the way, tall and almost turning a corner and in line with the building’s side. If he could halt the fire coming from that end, he could help a bit with a load of cover. A blind spot, perfect.

_One, two, four, six,_ he counted under his breath in this way, and decided upon a group to engage with that stood directly in front of the Omnium’s doors. Jesse raised his hand, speaking into his communicator, “Boss, I think I can see a way to move in, let me go for it.”

 

“Agent McCree do _not_ engage; the line of fire is too heavy and dangerous to cross.”

 

“Not with Agent Begay,” he retaliated. Begay’s eyes swept quickly over to Jesse, irritated that they were being pulled into sass against their commander. Jesse continued, “They can put a shield in front of me, just for a second, and I can get to cover if I run fast enough.”

 

Silence. He could see their team attempt to move as told by Reyes, an imaginary clock ticking against their efforts. Gabriel grunted from the other side of the comm, clearly annoyed, but agreeing with the idea.

 

“Fine. Run fast, and stay behind cover.”

 

“You got it, boss.” He ran.

 

He could hear a mixture of Gabe’s and Begay’s voices calling out orders, and organizing their team. Jesse had no time to notice anything but the light of Begay’s blue proton shield going up, protecting him from some of the more concentrated fire as he sprinted away, and finding refuge in the bush.

 

Despite the trees that he had purposely chosen to run behind for cover, two shots hit the side of his breastplate, winding him a bit and causing him to cough. Trees blurred into green blobs, and twigs snapped at his sides and legs as he went, blue streaks of heat flashed in front of his face and grazed his ear. This didn’t stop him. Once he reached his vantage point, his eyes rapidly searched for his targets, lining them up, waiting for the perfect second, and finally letting loose his fire upon all of them.

 

All six magnificently fell to the ground with an electric sputter, evidence of their ‘death’. Just as he thought: their main coding lay in the head, and these models must have originally been meant for advanced target practice.

 

The young man tried to call out, but just as he jumped down from his spot, another unit took aim for him and knocked him back. He could hear his name being called, and he cried out that he was alright in response. Everything was happening so quickly it made him dizzy: the tall trees overhead seemed to spin, and the ringing in his ears couldn’t be more irritating. Firing continued from other units up ahead. With a fair amount of effort and no less amount of aching in his sides, Jesse managed to prop himself up on his elbow. Dirt grazed his skin, clothes and armor as he crawled towards the area they were being fired at, luckily noticing that Gabe and the two others had escaped from the position that had previously trapped them, wherever they were.

 

Looking towards their formation, apparently Gabriel’s planning had panned out, and they’d managed to force back the hostiles away from the factory, and into the trees. Jesse took it upon himself to attempt his strategy a second time and found another vantage point, but this one was unfortunately much more in the line of fire. Eight Omnics were counted for him to line up together, though the count in total was lessening. He found a spot up ahead and crouched beside his squad mates, his only cover the veil of a thick bush and a small hill. Jesse lined them up again tactfully, and suddenly jumping up to spray the opponent with bullets. Another sextuple kill. He ducked, the remaining two he’d spotted were dispatched by teammates. Searching the area again, he found four more, quickly rising and doing away with them. Just as the young man’s face ducked down, he was met was a burning strike in the arm, having been hit from a far-off target just before he managed to be rid of them.

 

Jesse slid down the hill a moment, out of breath and registering the pain that came from being hit. A numbing sensation came to him, but as far as he could tell it was surprisingly nothing too serious. Even the teammates next to him, who had seen the legendary Jesse McCree in action anew, had briefly looked to him with awe at how he had handled the situation.

 

Sweat dampened his forehead as he listened to the fire slowly dying down. Panic hit him again when he realized he hadn’t seen or heard Gabriel in some time now, though he wasn’t sure how much time had passed. His eyes darted rapidly and searching wildly for his mentor, also taking note that there were considerably fewer omnics than before.

 

A hand abruptly holding Jesse’s shoulder in a firm grip made the young man jump, and yet relief rushed through him to find it was his mentor’s hand there.

 

“You alright kid?” he asked, small burns marked his neck and body from the lasers, and he smelled of burnt clothing. Jesse nodded, not at all pleased with his aching ribcage, “I’ve had worse.”

 

Gabriel hoisted the youth up on his feet effortlessly, offering his shoulder at noticing Jesse recoiled in pain at his midsection. Apparently, it had begun to hurt worse. “That was a dangerous thing you did there,” said Gabe, and he knew he was gearing up for a lecture later. “Foolish I’d say to pull something like that on your own. Next time stick to the plan.”

 

_But this part wasn’t planned_ , he might’ve said. His instincts told him to let it go, and he merely nodded and gave a “Yes sir” to his mentor, earning a nod of sympathy towards his cringing.

 

Jesse almost replied with a smartass comment about how they shouldn’t be standing up so clearly in the line of fire, only to realize the firing had almost completely stopped, but seemingly continued elsewhere in the distance, and small groups of agents taking chase to the stray omnics.

 

A quick scan of the more immediate area showed the injured either getting medical attention or being supported by other agents. Nobody died, as he would later learn. Soldiers patrolled the area and took fired a few extra shots into the circuits of the fell omnics for good measure. Seemingly it was over, and Jesse was gently placed on the tailgate of the cargo vehicle before Gabriel’s presence was replaced with a combat medic and Begay’s.

 

The doctor carefully shifted Jesse’s armor this way and that, checking for how bad the damage could have been. Apparently, the shots burnt a hole through the vest, and this was the cause for why it felt like his chest was on fire. Go figure.

 

His vest was carefully removed and the medic set to work analyzing his injuries and then treating them with cream and fresh bandages. Nothing too serious, and nothing broken, he was told.

 

“What about the fusion core?” asked Jesse, pointedly at his new Dine’ friend.

 

“It’s apprehended. We’ve almost finished what we came here to do, don’t worry about it.”

 

He supposed they were right. He did however, suspect that Begay might’ve only said this to rid him of any anxiety or responsibility he might have felt for the situation otherwise. Maybe they figured that was what sparked Jesse’s little rebellion against plans earlier, and it wasn’t altogether untrue. For a moment, Jesse wondered if he had simply imagined Begay smiling before, with how serious and hard their face was.  

 

Time passed and seemed to skip in parts, oddly enough, or at least this is how he would later come to remember it. After being prodded at and cared for by the medic, he was left alone and shooed away from the vehicle once the omnium was brought out. Begay assisted Jesse away, the two of them hobbling back into the woods where their vehicles would take them back to sure safety.

 

“Nice cowboy hat,” said Begay, almost startling Jesse with their sudden burst of friendly conversation. Probably trying to diffuse the situation a bit.

 

“I should start calling you _Akalii_ , Cowboy.”

 

“Vaquero, more like.” Said Jesse.

 

“Of course, Akalii means ‘cowboy’ in Dine, cousin.”

 

Jesse’s brows went up, making his partner laugh, but he couldn’t help it. He liked the sound of that, tried whispering the word in his own mouth after he’d heard it, not entirely sure if he was saying it correctly, but it didn’t matter. He echoed the new name again quietly as if the word was holy. Akalii.

 

“You said you’re Towering House clan?” asked Begay. Jesse snorted, surprised that they wanted to continue this conversation. “Yeah.”

 

Begay nodded in full approval, their smile forming again, “Then we are related.”

 

Jesse frowned, not entirely sure he knew what Begay meant. His hand prodded at his chest, finding that the dressed wound was bothering him some. Just as his friend began to explain that being from the same clan meant being related, he began to feel extremely dizzy- and sick. Like the whole world around him was moving too fast and that he might fall off it.

 

“Hey, you doin’ alright?” his friend asked. Jesse pried his arm from under Begay, attempting to walk on his own, “‘M fine.”

 

He would regret this however, as his face was greeted with a mouthful of dirt and moss and grass before he realized he’d fallen. He could hear Begay attempting to shake him awake, almost as if he were sleeping. In his blurred vision, he could see the vehicle approaching them from a distance, as he faced the direction of which they had come. Begay’s voice became more and more frantic, but Jesse just became more and more tired, not understanding what in the world was wrong with him.

 

“Where’s your dad?” He heard Begay call. Dad? Indeed, where is Dad? He might’ve thought to say this as a snarky comment, but he wasn’t thinking clearly. A figure was sprinting towards the two of them, their black Overwatch uniform a sharp contrast against the greening trees and endless moss. Jesse could essentially only see colors, as everything was blurred and he grew more and more sleepy. Strong arms hoisted him up, helping him stand and attempt to walk. Strangely he was content.


	11. Struggle (Fareeha)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, this is a little bit different! I specifically designed this chapter to be one that corresponds with chapter 10 and takes place at roughly around the same time, so that readers (that's you lovely peoples) can either choose to read both chapter 10 and 11, or skip chapter ten altogether if they feel, and yet not totally miss out on anything. This chapter though focuses on Fareeha's point of view, just so you can get a little peek into her head about what she's doing atm while Jesse is on his first mission in Washington. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> WARNINGS: descriptions of food

_Fareeha._

 

There is no shortage of Coffee in Baba’s cupboards, but he still insisted on bartering for some of it with Mister Edenshaw across the road. Fareeha diligently brought a pack of cigarettes and cocoa powder in exchange for it, two things their neighbor was craving and agreed to trade for.

 

Even the road to get there is patchy. Baba’s house is more away from the main townsite, and out of sight behind the trees: the Edenshaw residence is just the same, with only a neglected dirt road behind their house to share space some distance away. Fareeha went in a speed that was just satisfying enough to enjoy the walk, yet quick enough that wouldn’t be rude to Baba’s waiting.

 

Mister Edenshaw has a very nice house- the living space is modest, but it’s entirely decorated with art and novelty items Fareeha likes seeing, and it was no bother at all to deliver the items to him, even if the walk is a bit long. She was greeted by their neighbor kindly as they traded the items, and she was sent on her way back home. Her head peeped in just as he shut the door, spotting the large wooden mask hanging and decorating on his wall in the background. Fareeha sighed, turning on her heel to travel all the way back in disappointment. She’d seen similar masks in books, and even the cultural center dad worked at. If Fareeha had her way, she’d inspect the house all day long.

 

The young girl’s spirits were lifted again to some degree, once she was joined by the (very cheerful, yet terribly old) Edenshaw cat Siska, who had decided it would be escorting her back to the house. Siska was good company and curled around Fareeha’s legs just before he entered her house, and left on his own.

 

Fareeha entered the house, ironically smelling of coffee, and placed the box of instant mix in the cupboards along with the other two boxes of it where it belonged. Three different brands, three different flavors. If Mama was here, she might’ve chided Baba playfully and yet seriously about not having any tea, or at least not carrying a Turkish kanaka. Mama likes spiced coffee if tea is unavailable. Fareeha doesn’t really care for either. Maybe liking coffee and tea is a more grown-up thing.

 

Fareeha then becomes idle, bored. She found herself agonizingly unentertained now, as Serena left a while ago to get food with auntie, and Jesse’s lack of presence became a bit of a downer for her. Baba’s voice echoes from the hallway, mere mumbles as he speaks into the phone. He’s talking to somebody important, and he’s saying things he doesn’t want her to hear because he himself is stressed from hearing it. He’s just talking about work, but Baba gets stressed easily, and he pretends not to be to spare both her and Mama because he loves them. Baba is a very nice man that way.

 

The youngest Amari finds herself traveling to the small bookshelf, her fingers trailing over the spines and volumes her dad has collected over the years. Many are academic essays written by Indigenous scholars, some of which she found the courage to open, but found herself struggling with the lines of big words and phrases her young self couldn’t quite always understand, or otherwise became relatively disinterested in, even if she didn’t admit it. One book stands out to her, a dark blue plastic cover and older edition of a play about Coyote and Raven sits at an angle beneath her fingers, tipping out of the shelf and sits flat down again as she decides it’s not what she wants to read.  

 

Fareeha has already read everything there is to read that’s appropriate for her age, though. Books about Haida art, culture, history, and all other sorts of topics lay stacked in piles in her closet upstairs, and some have managed to find their way back in Cairo, as well. It’s information she’s managed to soak up on her own, and with the help and silent diligence of Baba sneaking some for her to borrow from the culture center. She’s read everything, or at least she thinks she has. She tries to. It’s everything, and yet not enough.

 

There aren’t enough books in the whole wide world to fit what Fareeha wants to read, to learn. She always ends up sitting curled up with a book in her lap, the pages familiar and the edges worn and curled from its owner rereading them over and over again. But it’s not enough, because they couldn’t have written it all down. It’s lost somewhere else. It’s stolen from someone else.

 

Fareeha picks out a Haida-to-English dictionary and sets herself on the couch with it, finding it’s not quite as thick as the Egyptian-Arabic-to-English dictionary, and is about half its size. Too bad there’s not a Haida-to-Arabic dictionary. She giggles at the thought that maybe someday she’ll be the one to write it.

 

She skims through the pages at random, looking at different words, and trying to say them. Mother, _awga,_ brother, _daaga_ , cave, _din_ , clothing, _gii.insguu,_ thunderbird, _hiilang.gga_ , bracelet, _xiigiigaay_. Some words she’s already familiar with, others remain foreign to her. It’s a slow process, but she’s learning. Learning this is a justice she’s happy to take up, and tries to remember doing so will help that terrible statistic pointing out the amount of fluent Haida speakers dwindle.

 

Fareeha wants to ensure everything she knows and more will be secure for the future. Oftentimes she found herself sitting with both dictionaries at her side, frustrated in trying to figure out what big words meant _(both in English AND Arabic)_ while she tried to read the more extensive pieces from Baba’s shelf.

 

But she’s too little, too inexperienced, still not educated enough. And she knows it. Even if she pretends not to be, and she can’t help it. Fareeha hears about some injustice somewhere, and she wants to take care of it personally. Fareeha sees Baba crouched over his desk, snapping the keyboard wildly, or sees Mama flipping through papers for work, and she wants to relieve her parents of their stress. Fareeha worries her Indigenous side is endangered, and she wants to do something about it because she knows she can. She just wants to help. But she’s too tiny and it’s such a big world, so for now she learns what she can, and maybe she can help better as a grown up, even if it is far away.

 

The young girl sighs and places the four-hundred-page book on top of the coffee table and reclines, noticing Baba has come into the living room to sit with her.

 

“How’s about we have koshari?” said Baba. He meant for dinner.

 

Fareeha grinned, excited about the idea, as it’d been a while since she’d had it. Her smile was enough to give him an answer, and she followed her father into the kitchen silently.

 

Baba is a great cook, and she’s a good helper. They make a great team. It’s a shame Baba couldn’t have been home right away when Jesse was visiting, and they could’ve done this together then. Fareeha’s cheeks flushed when she remembered how her plans to make Macaroni Béchamel had failed and instead turned into simply macaroni and cheese on the first day Jesse visited. She swore she’d keep that sealed behind her lips out of embarrassment, and she did.

 

The kitchen became a welcoming room of scents embodying the room as the food cooked, its only escape being the open window just above the sink. If Mum was there, thought Fareeha, everything would have been perfect.

 

Their table was unusually quiet, but it was a welcomed silence while they ate. Adam might’ve chided Fareeha about talking while eating anyhow, and they only made comments in between the drinking of water, only to return eating again.

 

Adam’s plate was abandoned in a nearly finished state when his attention turned to the incessant buzzing of his phone, and he rose from his spot to answer it. Fareeha didn’t mind at first, but she’d caught Baba’s face frowning at the screen, presumably taken aback by the caller ID projected on it. Baba left the entire kitchen and took to going outside on the deck. He didn’t even bother to bring cigarettes or sit down on the chairs. It was strange for him to go outside on the phone in the first place.

 

Fareeha caught herself staring at the door, and trying to peek out through the glass window of it. Something felt off, and she dared not move or make a sound. She would’ve muted the entire house if she had the ability, but the clock in the living room still ticked, and she could hear the shrill caws of ravens playing near the garbage bin out back.

 

What seemed like hours passed, and Fareeha reluctantly continued eating what food she had left, and even when she was finished, she served herself a bowl of leftover _ḵahl tl'inu_ from the night before. Decidedly, she would not move from that spot. Everything was fine, she decided, even if she didn’t totally believe it.

 

Baba returned from the outside looking somewhat downtrodden, but gave his daughter a manufactured smile anyway. He retrieved a bowl of ice cream for his own and sat in the same place next to his daughter, simply pushing his unfinished plate away to be neglected. Fareeha studied him, tried to find an answer for herself, but couldn’t.

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, finally. Adam gave her a sympathetic look, but no immediate response. He pushed his bowl away and clasped his hands together a moment before taking Fareeha’s hands into his own,

 

“Your friend got a little hurt today. Nothing too serious. He passed out, but he’s recovering. He’ll be alright. They don’t want you to worry.”

 

Fareeha’s eyes started watering and her father pulled her close into a tight hug before she knew it was happening, but she was sure she could hear her heat beat drumming in her ears. Baba stroked her hair soothingly, told her he was going to be fine.

 

“Did he do good?” asked Fareeha: meaning, did he do well on his first mission. The young girl wiped hot tears from her face with her little hands in fists, feeling a bit comforted knowing that her friend was alright. Adam nodded, offering her a tissue,

“Gabriel seems to think so. As soon as Mama comes to get you, we’ll all go visit Jess back at Reyes’s headquarters.”

 

“Promise?”

 

Baba smiled, “I promise.”


	12. Roots

Bits of eraser debris lay scattered on the paper, but a grey mist still stains the space where an answer should be. Jesse groans and swipes away the eraser marks, writing down what he thinks is the answer and hopes its correct.

“Done,” he announced. Jesse pulls the paper away from the textbook and attempts to offer it to Gabriel, seated next to him in a chair and his own type of homework piled up on the table in front of them. 

Gabriel offers a skeptical look, but takes the paper regardless, and brings up the answer sheet,

“Did you check all your work? That was fast.”

“Yes!”

Jesse’s answer is long and exasperated, earning a quick glare from his mentor for the sass, but he isn’t bothered. The young man found himself slouching back into his seat again, still sore from the few days prior of getting blasted by lasers; his hand slid to his chest again, prodding at his bandages.

“Don’t touch it, you’ll just irritate your burns.”

“I wasn’t touching it.” Jesse’s hand conspicuously moves to his leg, pretending like he didn’t just lie. Gabe must have an extra pair of eyes on his neck, he thinks, for him to have seen that. For half a second, Gabriel’s eyes look up without moving any other muscle on his neck upwards, but he continues marking his work for him. Jesse smiled sheepishly at him when he did- that was an accusatory glare.

“Did you take your antibiotics?” asks Gabriel,

“Yessir, took em this morning.”

“Good. Take them again soon, but eat something first.”

Jesse nods, and that short conversation ends there. Not a lot going on today, and all he can hear now is the scritching and scratching of Gabe’s pen against his sheet of paper. The calm he felt in that day was a harsh contrast to just a few days ago, and for a while, he was almost suspicious of it. But somehow doing homework eased his anxiety, and he felt confident he could return to his usual (and yet, unusual) livelihood soon enough after he’d healed properly.

“Thirty-six out of forty,” says Gabe, finally. His worksheet is returned and Jesse’s eyes glaze over it, satisfied. The young man falls back into his seat and gives an extra dramatic sigh for effect at having finally finished. It’s when Jesse decides to leave the dining room for a visit to the tv that he hears the buzzing of a phone, and he’s called back:

“You’re going to have some visitors,” Gabriel tells him. The man said it with an almost-smile, not  
really a neutral face, but it’s a friendly expression. That makes him suspicious. Gabriel doesn’t  
bother to elaborate and goes right back to his work. 

Jesse was content to watch tv until these ‘visitors’ arrived, and in doing so he was deciding if he actually wanted visitors. Luckily, he managed to dig deep through the hundreds of channels to find the soap opera he had watched in Skidegate, and got back in touch with Alexis and her dramatic scandals. After some time, he’s joined by his mentor, and they watch the show together. Jesse found himself giddy and yet impatient whenever Gabe asked what was happening, and who’s that, and what’s what; he was becoming more invested in the series, it seemed.

Almost an hour later and the two are startled by an incessant tapping at the door. The beats have almost no rest in between, and Jesse thinks he can jig to the beat.

“Must be them,” says Gabriel. Before he’s even had a chance to answer the door for them, their visitors have let themselves in, and the image of a twelve-year-old running a mile a minute comes speeding towards the direction of Jesse once they’ve caught sight of him. Instantly he’s knocked back into the couch and coughs as a pair of tiny arms have found a  
way around his neck and kept him in a tight grip,

“You’re okay, you’re okay!” Jesse holds the tiny visitor in his arms and   
coughs again, “I won’t be for long if you keep choking me!”

“Sorry!”

Jesse gently peels his guest from his arms and finds Fareeha there, her eyes glossy and beaming, her teeth bared in a wide-mouthed smile. She has the face of a happy chipmunk.   
Jesse laughs in wheezes, ignoring the pain in his chest. Her grin is too precious not to return a smile.

The two embraced again, this time more gently; perhaps the poor girl thinks if she hugs her friend just right, she might heal his wounds herself, and keep him from further harm. For a minute, Jesse thinks he can feel a wetness on his shoulder, possibly tears from little Fareeha, and he holds her a little tighter. It’s a true sibling hug. 

From over Fareeha’s shoulder, Jesse spots Gabriel shaking hands with Adam in welcoming: Fareeha removes herself from her friend and runs to Gabriel’s side, wrapping her arms around  
his waist. This girl sure loves to hug people, he thinks. 

Ana moved forward, her movement elegant, and sat next to the young man, smiling. Every bit of the expression is soft, genuine. Her presence there next to him couldn’t have been warmer if he were her own child, and so he smiled right back.

“I heard you had your first mission a while ago,” said Ana. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Congratulations, young man. And how are you doing now?”

Jesse’s hand instinctively traveled to his chest again, where most of the damage supposedly affected him the most. He wonders if the red spotting on his skin is enough to scar, offering a trophy for his first battle. 

Briefly nodding, his arm was removed from underneath his shirt before he can begin to fiddle with the annoying bandages again,

“I’m okay. Recovering and all that.”

Ana nods, sympathy in her eyes. Ana’s hand found a gentle place on Jesse’s a moment; her aura is basically spilling with fondness, and he can smell a light perfume on her clothes, making him think of his moms. 

“Well Jesse, I think you did a wonderful job, based on what I’ve heard about you. We’re lucky to have you on Overwatch.”

He might have replied with some equally appreciative thanks, but he can’t quite think of one. 

Fareeha quickly sat next to Jesse again before anybody else could. Adam and Gabriel meet the three of them there, Gabriel taking his spot again on the couch, with Adam enthusiastically greeting Jesse with another tight handshake. In his left hand, Jesse notices a piece of fabric rolled up and inquires about the thing.

“Oh, it’s for you actually,” says Adam. Jesse’s eyebrows raise in astonishment, 

“For me? Why?”

Adam laughed, “I said I’d buy you one! What better time to do it, right?”

“Buy me what? My birthday is in July. Did you think I was going to die?”

Jesse is entirely joking, though his deadpan tone would’ve suggested otherwise. The walls boom and echo with Adam’s laughs, a little too enthusiastic for such a lame, dark joke. Fareeha’s grip on Jesse’s right arm became deathly, not at all finding the joke funny. Jesse reassures her with a grin, and his arm is set free.

“Oh, you and your jokes!” Ana waved her hand in dismissal, “Just show him what you’ve brought, darling.”

Adam unraveled the piece of fabric to reveal a t-shirt; It’s black with a monochrome graphic design of greys and reds, the art piece depicting an obvious and yet not terribly corny motif paying homage to traditional Dine’ patterns. Jesse eyes it for a full minute before carefully taking it from Adam’s hands and inspecting it, 

“It’s friggin’ awesome,” he says, careful not to swear in front of Fareeha, and especially not while both her parents were there. Caught himself that time.

Jesse slid the shirt over his first layer of clothing before shaking Adam’s hands, thanking him for the shirt, but also a little more. Fareeha wasn’t the only good friend he made in Skidegate. He's jokingly decided to call this gift his 'war shirt'.

The group’s attention is lazily turned to the shared interest of the soap opera still airing. Nobody minded visiting longer.

It’s when the Amaris decide to up and leave that Fareeha grasps onto the front door’s frame, halting herself to speak directly to Jesse,

“Are you really that fast?” she’s referring to how he supposedly ran from place to place to take cover. Somehow, she’d managed to find that information, and Jesse decides it’s information that’s already gotten around to some degree. 

“Guess so,” he replied, “I think it’s in my blood. My mama’ was real fast- she could’ve been an Olympian. The word ‘Rarámuri’ even means ‘runners on foot’, you know.”

Fareeha just grins and grins at him, “I thought you said you knew nothing about being Indian,” It’s a funny phrase, and apparently resonates as an insult to Adam enough that he chastises her.

“No, she’s right, I said that.” Jesse laughs and realizes how that sounds, but none of them were there at the time when Jesse and Fareeha spent those few minutes together in the guest room at Skidegate, sharing their pain, and their loneliness. It’s a different kind of loneliness.

Their friends left, Fareeha looking glummer than the others, but her presence left a mark on Jesse, and he found himself thinking about what he’d experienced for the rest of the day.

Every moment he spent in Skidegate was quietly stitching, pulling another part of himself closer. He’s healing somehow in that way, but the wounds are still fresh. 

Jesse’s memory returns to the carved cedar pole pines he saw in Skidegate. Their forms tower ahead, proud, like giants. Fareeha told him each animal decorating the wood represented something and generations of a clan. If you know enough about Totem poles, you can tell who they belong to, where they come from, and what nation they are just by looking at them. Carvers spent hours, days, years perfecting to master the proper way to make them. If you chip enough wood off, it creates a totem pole, turns it into something lovely. 

But wood is still wood, and sometimes it wears so thin it becomes worn and raw, and it has no roots to save it. 

Jesse came back worn and raw. Gabe found him like you find a piece of driftwood on the beach; it floats aimlessly in the water until the shore grounds it. 

You’re not an individual at Deadlock, you’re disposable, driftwood. He tried to chip parts of himself to avoid the shame and pain that came from it. Dine’ words became ash in his mouth; culture became foreign, too distant. His mother’s lullabies became hymns sitting in the back of his mind, only to be sung in some seldom visited holy place of his own. His blood still ran red, but ties to kin he was supposed to have were cut away, and memories became hidden and eventually forgot. Forgetting, not knowing, is a terrible, cursed thing for Indians when you’re half. You’re either all or nothing to a lot of people. And that is the loneliness that Fareeha somehow understood.

But his roots are still there, and he’s already grown in a lot of ways. Jesse is a different person than he was even a year ago. Knowledge about his identity begins and ends, for the time being, with a few facts, and his blood, but it doesn’t matter. He still has his roots, and he has Fareeha, and Adam and Ana, and Gabe and Begay, even. He still has his roots, and nobody can take that away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it, we did it, people!! I'd just like to thank everybody who's kept up with this fanfic (my very first finished!! <3) since April, who gave kudos, bookmarked, commented, everything!! I'm glad if I was able to write the characters in a way that resonated with my audience, especially mixed Native readers. Another special thank you to my friend Manny, for offering support and advice throughout my writing!
> 
> Let me know in the comments what you thought of this fic, what you liked most, or if you had any questions about the plot, or even what you think I could improve for the next time I write! But don't fret, this isn't the last I'll be posting of Native Jesse/Fareeha fics! Expect more from me in the future, and stay tuned for a possible epilogue to Jesse's story, as well as deleted scenes, which will be posted in another work/file.
> 
> Thanks for all your reading, love, and support. Hiy-hiy, Meegwetch, Ahéhee, and Haawa!


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